PETHERICK

Petherick:  may he be immortal; for he is a man who has made of a humble task a high calling; and without knowing it he has caused a man of a high calling to degrade it to a mean level.  Now Petherick is a humble Englishman, whose father many years ago enjoyed the distinction of carrying the mail pouch to and from the post office for the American Embassy in London.  As father, so son.  Petherick succeeded Petherick.  In this remote period (the Petherick must now be 60) Governments had “despatch agents,” men who distributed mail and whatnot, sent it on from capital to capital—­were a sort of general “forwarding” factotums.  The office is really out of date now.  Telegraph companies, express companies, railway companies, the excellent mail service and the like out-despatch any conceivable agent—­except Petherick.  Petherick has qualities that defy change, such as an unfailing courtesy, a genuine joy in serving his fellows, the very genius of helpfulness.  Well, since a governmental office once established acquires qualities of perpetuity, three United States despatch agents have survived the development of modern communication, one in London, one in New York, and the third (I think) in San Francisco.  At any rate, the London agent remains.

Now in the beginning the London despatch agent was a mail messenger (as I understand) for the Embassy.  He still takes the pouch to the post office, and brings it back.  In ordinary times, that’s all he does for the Embassy, for which his salary of about ——­ is paid by the State Department—­too high a salary for the labour done, but none too high for the trustworthy qualities required.  If this had been all that Petherick did, he would probably have long ago gone to the scrap heap.  It is one mark of a man of genius that he always makes his job.  So Petherick.  The American Navy came into being and parts of it come to this side of the world.  Naval officers need help when they come ashore.  Petherick was always on hand with despatches and mail for them, and Petherick was a handy man.  Did the Captain want a cab?  Petherick had one waiting.  Did the Captain want rooms?  Such-and-such a hotel was the proper one for him.  Rooms were engaged.  Did the Captain’s wife need a maid?  Petherick had thought of that, too.  Then a Secretary from some continental legation wished to know a good London tailor.  He sought Petherick.  An American Ambassador from the continent came to London.  London yielded Petherick for his guidance and his wants.  Petherick became omni-present, universally useful—­an American institution in fact.  A naval officer who had been in Asiatic waters was steaming westward to the Mediterranean.  His wife and three babies came to London, where she was to meet her husband, who was to spend several weeks here.  A telegram to Petherick:  they needed to do nothing else.  When the lady arrived a furnished flat, a maid and a nurse and a cook and toys awaited her.  When her husband arrived, a pair of boots awaited him from the same last that his last pair had been made on, in London, five years before.  At some thoughtful moment $1,000 was added to Petherick’s salary by the Navy Department; and a few years ago a handsome present was made to Petherick by the United States Naval Officers all over the world.