Presto! in the twinkling of an eye, so to say, I had become one of them.

My frayed and out-at-elbows jacket was the badge and advertisement of my class, which was their class.

It made me of like kind, and in place of the fawning and too respectful attention I had hitherto received, I now shared with them a comradeship.

The man in corduroy and dirty neckerchief no longer addressed me as "sir" or "governor." It was "mate" now--and a fine and hearty word, with a tingle to it, and a warmth and gladness, which the other term does not possess.

Governor! It smacks of mastery, and power, and high authority--the tribute of the man who is under to the man on top, delivered in the hope that he will let up a bit and ease his weight, which is another way of saying that it is an appeal for alms.
This brings me to a delight I experienced in my rags and tatters which is denied the average American abroad.