Whether calico is nobler than flour, or flour than calico, I am not
sure, but the subject is one for discussion, as Maeztu would have it.
I am an eclectic myself on this score. I prefer flour in the shape of
bread with my dinner, but cloth will go further with a man who desires
to appear well in public.
When I was serving upon the Town Council, an anonymous publication
entitled "Masks Off," printed the following among other gems: "Pio
Baroja is a man of letters who runs a bake-shop."
A Madrid critic recently declared in an American periodical that I had
two personalities: one that of a writer and the other of a baker. He was
solicitous to let me know later that he intended no harm.
But if I should say to him: "Mr. So and So" is a writer who is
excellently posted upon the value of cloth, as his father sold dry-
goods, it would appeal to his mind as bad taste.
Another journalist paid his respects to me some months ago in _El
Parlamentario_, saying I baked rolls, oppressed the people, and
sucked the blood of the workingman.
It would appear to be more demeaning to own a small factory or a shop,
according to the standards of both literary and non-literary circles,
than it is to accept money from the corruption funds of the Government,
or bounties from the exchequers of foreign Embassies.
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