If Hans were rich, or an artist, or a master’s son, it is highly probable that ho would be able to obtain a passport—and the possession of a passport guarantees many advantages—but as Hans is simply a workman, a “wander-book” only is granted to him. This does indeed cost him less money, but it thrusts him into an unwelcome position, from which it is not easy to escape.
Not so; the most important document is still wanting. He has, as yet, no passport or wander-book. Hans goes to the police-bureau, and, as he is poor, has to wait a long while.
In a few minutes the police officer came out, handed to me my passport with great politeness, and in a sharp voice bade the tinman follow him. Such is the difference between a passport and a wander-book. I, owner of a passport, might go whither I would: tinman, carrying a wander-book, was marched off by the police to his appointed house of call.
I may mention as a further proof of the different treatment which awaits the holder of the workman’s wander-book, as compared with the bearer of a passport, that on attending at the police office, Alcibiade and myself were at once called into the bureau, and our duly viséd passports handed to us with great politeness, while our companions were left to cool their heels in a stone paved hall, till the officials could find time to attend to them.