boundary between meitm and tuicm. Neckties,
hats, coats, umbrellas and handkerchiefs were interchangeable property
in that queer house of bachelors, but you could always be sure of a
good meal there if your tastes included an unvarying passion for
herrings doused, herrings fried, herrings marinated, pickled herrings,
or herrings stewed with potatoes boiled in their jackets. When funds
were ample one feasted on jellied eels, oyster patties, liver sausages,
Pomeranian goose breast and iced Munich lager fetched by the pail from
a nearby German hotel. It was no uncommon thing for Herr Meltner, long
after he had ceased to be my student, to send me a scribbled message by
hand saying: "Come to-night, great eats."
Another
of my pupils was a German doctor with a liquil ozone treatment as a
cure for cancer. I used to translate his lectures and pamphlets for him
and on several occasions stood on a platform for him translating his
message word for word before the assembled medicos. One of these
doctors had a father who ran a scholastic agency in the West End, and
this old gentleman was the cause of my leaving London. He got me a job
as manager of a language school in Newcastle-on-Tyne.
I
spent five years on Tyneside as a professional man, and they were happy
years. I made friends, I studied, I met and married the mother of my
children (who made an honest Britisher of me) and I discovered as few
aliens discover that London is not England. To this day my English has
a touch of North Country burr about it, so that I am sometimes
flattered to be thought a Scot.
But gems were calling me back. I sold my language
