I am John. I am a respected miner in my area. Everyone accepts me and everyone accepts my leading position in this district. I have a good wife that cooks and irons and occupies our children. One day, a man from Europe (from this island on the left side of Europe - he called it the "British Empire") came here to "study our behaviour". As our leader, it was my turn to support him and to show him all he wanted to see.

He called himself a "professional aesthete" and he very much behaved like that. He never laughed - even on my best jokes (and I am a well known wag) and when he talked, it sounded like he thought that we all don't understand his language and so he spoke cruel slow and markedly simple.

His pronunciation was that funny, that we all listened carefully as he read us some lazy stories about a man which had a name that sounded like Ol' Jimmy when he sits drunk in the bar and tells stories about the numberless women he had. The first and only thing that made him smile was the safety regard above the piano that was installed there after the sudden death of our last pianist, telling that no one should shoot the pianist for playing the wrong notes.

In the evening, as we took the lorry to go to supper his eyes grew wide, because he never thought that one can eat in a place like this. Even wider grew his greenhorn eyes as he tasted our best single malt whiskey and after some rounds, he forgot a little bit of his laziness and started to talk more and more normal English, but this normality not lasted very long and as we went to our theatre, he turned back to be the old snobbish guy.

At the theatre, he showed us that his nerves are not as well educated as his mind should be. He suddenly had to sit down as someone told him that just before we came, two murderers had been seized and immediately had been brought to the highest justice.

Because he continuously talked about Art as this would be an as important thing as a gun or a good wife, I brought him to George the Art Expert. George lately had a conflict with the railroad company because they damaged one of his imports from Europe. Funnily enough, our greenhorn didn't become angry about the railroad company.

He just nodded his head and the next day he went away without taking some malt with him.