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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
119
I
was
so
taken
aback
by
being
personally
appealed
to,
that
I
could
only
bow
apologetically,
and
say
I
feared
I
was
not
competent
to
offer
an
opinion.
Carrie
was
about
to
say
something;
but
she
was
interrupted,
for
which
I
was
rather
pleased,
for
she
is
not
clever
at
argument,
and
one
has
to
be
extra
clever
to
discuss
a
subject
with
a
man
like
Mr.
Huttle.
He
continued,
with
an
amazing
eloquence
that
made
his
unwelcome
opinions
positively
convincing:
“The
happy
medium
is
nothing
more
or
less
than
a
vulgar
half-measure.
A
man
who
loves
champagne
and,
finding
a
pint
too
little,
fears
to
face
a
whole
bottle
and
has
recourse
to
an
imperial
pint,
will
never
build
a
Brooklyn
Bridge
or
an
Eiffel
Tower.
No,
he
is
half-hearted,
he
is
a
half-measure—
respectable—
in
fact,
a
happy
medium,
and
will
spend
the
rest
of
his
days
in
a
suburban
villa
with
a
stucco-column
portico,
resembling
a
four-post
bedstead.”
We
all
laughed.
“That
sort
of
thing,”
continued
Mr.
Huttle,
“belongs
to
a
soft
man,
with
a
soft
beard
with
a
soft
head,
with
a
made
tie
that
hooks
on.”
This
seemed
rather
personal
and
twice
I
caught
myself
looking
in
the
glass
of
the
cheffonière;
for
I
had
on
a
tie
that
hooked
on—
and
why
not?
If
these
remarks
were
not
personal
they
were
rather
careless,
and
so
were
some
of
his
subsequent
observations,
which
must
have
made
both
Mr.
Franching
and
his
guests
rather
uncomfortable.
I
don’t
think
Mr.
Huttle
meant
to
be
personal,
for
he
added;
“We
don’t
know
that
class
here
in
this
country:
but
we
do
in
America,
and
I’ve
no
use
for
them.”
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