"
A psychologist, that Bard! acutely divining a basic law of this absurd
human nature. In a beggar's rags few men could be more than beggars. In
kingly robes, most men could be kings; could achieve the finished and
fearless behaviour that is said to distinguish royalty.
Bunker Bean, the divinely credulous, now daily arrayed himself in royal
vestures, set a well-fashioned crown upon the brow of him and strode
forth, sceptre in hand. Invisible were these trappings, to be sure; he
was still no marked man in a city street. But at least they were there
to his own truth-lit eyes, and he most truly did "expand his chest, draw
in his waist, and stand erect." Yea, in the full gaze of inhumanly large
policemen would he do these things.
This, indeed, was one of the first prerogatives his royalty claimed. He
discovered that it was not necessary for any but criminals to fear
policemen. It might still be true that an honest man of moderate
physique and tender sensibilities could not pass one without slight
tremors of self-consciousness; but by such they were--a most prodigious
thought--to be regarded as one's paid employees; within the law one
might even greet them pleasantly in passing, and be answered civilly.
Bean was now equal to approaching one and saying, "Good evening,
Officer!" He would sometimes cross a street merely to perform this
apparently barren rite. It stiffened his spine.
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