THE country of Kakekikoku, as its name suggests, lies in the vicinity
of Timbuctoo, the well-known African resort; and at the present time,
when so much interest is centred upon that little-known land, it may
be profitable to our readers, as well as to the writer, to give some
information about it.
A famous Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, who has travelled
widely, not only in this country but in Belgium and the Channel
Islands, has stated that Kakekikoku is richly endowed with the
bewilderments, perils and mysteries of primitive and unexplored
African territory. A warlike and exclusive folk, the Kakekikokuans
extend a red-hot welcome to the foreigner who ventures within their
borders. They are possessed of a fine physique and an intelligence
of a subtler kind than many savage races can pretend to; yet while
having all the qualities that should go to the building up of a
strong nation, certain conditions of their life bar the way to such an
achievement. In a word, the Kakekikokuans are in the clutches of the
medicine-man. Each of these despots has his own little following, and
wields a distinctive influence, it being a point of honour with him
that his teaching should differ in some way (usually in but a trivial
detail) from the teaching of any other of his kind. The solemnity of
their discussions and the heat of their dissensions about the minutiæ
of their creeds would be laughable were it not so pathetic..
And not only do the medicine-men dispute among themselves, but their
followers engage even more vehemently in bitter strife. For instance,
there is a national belief that the juby-juby nut, which grows in the
forests in profusion, possesses some supernatural virtue that will
make a man who chews it impervious to the weapons of his enemies.
That this virtue exists is generally accepted; but when it comes to
a discussion of how, when and where to chew the nut, much wrangling
goes on; and such men as survive in battle claim that their particular
method is proved to be the correct one, while such as succumb are
cited in proof of the error of their process of absorbing the
juices of the juby-juby nut. The survivors include, of course,
representatives of various schools of thought, and a battle against
a common enemy rarely goes by without being immediately followed by
a conflict among the surviving Kakekikokuans in order to put to final
proof their respective theories about their remarkable fruit. Thus a
promising people is committing race-suicide; for this sort of thing
goes on not only in connection with this particular problem, but over
such questions as the number of beads to wear round one's neck when
visiting the medicine-man, whether the national custom of saluting
the rising sun need be observed on cloudy mornings, and whether
the medicine-man is entitled to the pick of the yams on any day but
Sunday. People of different opinions on these points decline to eat
together or to enter into social intercourse with one another; and
their children are forbidden to mingle in play.
The good news has just come to hand, however, that a band of Church
of England missionaries, despatched by the Bishop of ZANZIBAR, has
now entered the country; and it is delightful to contemplate the
beneficent result that may be expected from their broadminded attitude
and their sane teaching on the subject of the brotherhood of man.
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[Illustration: _Observant Lady_ (_to gentleman alighting from 'bus_).
"_I_ THINK YOU'VE DROPPED A PENNY!"]
* * * * *
"The Berlin critics have been accusing Mr. Bernard Shaw of
having committed in his 'Pygmalion,' produced in Germany the
other day, a plagiarism from Smollett's novel, 'Peregrine
Pickle.' Mr. Shaw denies that he has ever read the novel
in question, and, in an interview in the London 'Observer,'
remarks: 'The suggestion of the German papers that I had
Pygmalion produced in Germany lest I should be detected in
my own country of plagiarism, shows an amusing ignorance of
English culture.'"--_Yorkshire Evening Post_.
It does. Why even our most cultured countryman, Mr. BERNARD SHAW, has
never read _Peregrine Pickle_.
* * * * *
"Mr. Spademan, of Woodnewton, Northants, placed a dozen eggs
under a hen some time ago, and there were hatched out thirteen
chickens, one of the eggs being double-yolked. All the young
birds are doing well.
Burroughes and Watts' billiard tables for
accuracy."--_Birmingham Daily Mail_.
They are, in fact, a lesson to Mr. STADEMAN's hens.
* * * * *