Arrived in his room Lord Berkeley made preparations for that first and last and all-the-time duty of the visiting Englishman--the jotting down in his diary of his "impressions" to date.

His preparations consisted in ransacking his "box" for a pen.

There was a plenty of steel pens on his table with the ink bottle, but he was English.

The English people manufacture steel pens for nineteen-twentieths of the globe, but they never use any themselves.

They use exclusively the pre-historic quill.
My lord not only found a quill pen, but the best one he had seen in several years--and after writing diligently for some time, closed with the following entry: BUT IN ONE THING I HAVE MADE AN IMMENSE MISTAKE, I OUGHT TO HAVE SHUCKED MY TITLE AND CHANGED MY NAME BEFORE I STARTED.
He sat admiring that pen a while, and then went on: "All attempts to mingle with the common people and became permanently one of them are going to fail, unless I can get rid of it, disappear from it, and re-appear with the solid protection of a new name.