made him cold to the marrow. He said to himself, "So there is an

aristocracy of position here, and an aristocracy of prosperity, and

apparently there is also an aristocracy of the ins as opposed to the

outs, and I am with the outs. So the ranks grow daily, here. Plainly

there are all kinds of castes here and only one that I belong to, the

outcasts." But he couldn't even smile at his small joke, although he was

obliged to confess that he had a rather good opinion of it. He was

feeling so defeated and miserable by this time that he could no longer

look with philosophical complacency on the horseplay of the young fellows

in the upper rooms at night. At first it had been pleasant to see them

unbend and have a good time after having so well earned it by the labors

of the day, but now it all rasped upon his feelings and his dignity.

He lost patience with the spectacle. When they were feeling good, they

shouted, they scuffled, they sang songs, they romped about the place like

cattle, and they generally wound up with a pillow fight, in which they

banged each other over the head, and threw the pillows in all directions,

and every now and then he got a buffet himself; and they were always

inviting him to join in. They called him "Johnny Bull," and invited him

with excessive familiarity to take a hand. At first he had endured all

this with good nature, but latterly he had shown by his manner that it

was distinctly distasteful to him, and very soon he saw a change in the

manner of these young people toward him. They were souring on him as

they would have expressed it in their language. He had never been what

might be called popular. That was hardly the phrase for it; he had

merely been liked, but now dislike for him was growing. His case was not

helped by the fact that he was out of luck, couldn't get work, didn't

134

The American Claimant