[Illustration: Yan Phou Lee.]
WHEN I WAS
A BOY IN CHINA
BY
YAN PHOU LEE
[Illustration: Colophon]
BOSTON
LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY
Copyright, 1887,
by
D. LOTHROP & COMPANY.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. INFANCY 7
II. THE HOUSE AND HOUSEHOLD 17
III. CHINESE COOKERY 26
IV. GAMES AND PASTIMES 34
V. GIRLS OF MY ACQUAINTANCE 41
VI. SCHOOLS AND SCHOOL LIFE 50
VII. RELIGIONS 67
VIII. CHINESE HOLIDAYS 72
IX. STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS 81
X. HOW I WENT TO SHANGHAI 92
XI. HOW I PREPARED FOR AMERICA 99
XII. FIRST EXPERIENCES IN AMERICA 105
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN CHINA.
CHAPTER I.
INFANCY.
On a certain day in the year 1861, I was born. I cannot give you the
exact date, because the Chinese year is different from the English
year, and our months being lunar, that is, reckoned by the revolution
of the moon around the earth, are consequently shorter than yours. We
reckon time from the accessions of Emperors, and also by cycles of
sixty years each. The year of my birth, 1861, was the first year of
the Emperor Tung-che. We have twelve months ordinarily; and we say,
instead of “January, February,” etc., “Regular Moon, Second Moon, Third
Moon,” etc. Each third year is a leap year, and has an extra month so
as to make each of the lunar years equal to a solar year. Accordingly,
taking the English calendar as a standard, our New Year’s Day varies.
Therefore, although I am sure that I was born on the twenty-first day
of the Second Moon, in Chinese, I don’t know my exact birthday in
English; and consequently, living in America as I have for many years,
I have been cheated of my birthday celebration.
Being born a boy, there was a deal of rejoicing in the family, and
among numerous relatives. If I had happened to be a girl, it would
have been very different; the reason for which I will tell in a
chapter on “Girls of my Acquaintance.” My aged grandfather smiled with
satisfaction when the news reached him in Fungshun, three hundred
miles away to the East, where he was holding office as Literary
Sub-Chancellor. Congratulations poured in in the shape of presents of
rich cloths, jewelry and pigs’ feet. These gifts came a month after
my birth, which day is always celebrated as a christening-day is in
England. On that day, which we call the “Completion of the Moon,” my
name was given to me. I started with the surname “Lee” which my family
and clan possess in common; and to that “Yan Phou,” which signifies
“Wealth by Imperial Favor,” was added—Lee Yan Phou. But I now arrange
my name in accordance with American custom.
The names given on those occasions are not like your “Jack,” “Harry,”
or “Dick,” but are usually words chosen “from the dictionary” for their
lucky import, or because they are supposed to possess the power of
warding off evil influences in the child’s horoscope. You should know
that in China a baby’s fortune is told almost as soon as he is born,
the events of his life being foretold with surprising particularity.
In order to ward off malignant influences from the future of their
child, rich people often spend great sums of money. To some deities,
especially to the God of Longevity, vows are made, and promises of
presents annually, if the god will protect baby and bring him through
certain crises in his life; and thus, willing or unwilling, the idol
is supposed bound to be the child’s tutelary guardian. Also blind
fortune-tellers are paid to intercede for the infant with their
particular idol. If you were living in China, you would notice the
strings of amulets which youngsters wear. They are sometimes made
of gold and silver; but often these necklaces are composed of mere
scraps of paper with talismanic characters penned by priests; they are
supposed to be efficacious in scaring away evil spirits. The priests,
fortune-tellers, lessees of temples, clairvoyants, and astrologers
drive a flourishing trade in these mysterious wares. For these charms,
and the friendliness of the idols being a matter of life or death, of
future happiness or misery to the beloved child, of course the poor
are just as eager to spend money in this way as the rich, and through
baby’s life they continue to pay annual instalments of money for these
things.
On my christening-day friends came to see me and to congratulate my
family, and a feast was made in my honor. When the guests departed
they carried each a slice of roast pork as a return-gift. Roast pig is
the national festal dish in China, as you will learn. No occasion is
complete without it, whether it be a religious festival, the worship
of ancestors, a wedding, or a birthday celebration. One feature of my
christening feast was that my mother was permitted to have all she
wanted of pigs’ feet and ginger pickled together. It is believed that
baby’s food will be more abundant if the mother eat plentifully of this
delicacy.
From what I have since observed I suppose that as it was the winter
season I was wrapped in “swaddling clothes;” and I think the layers of
garments would have caused the death of any ordinary American baby.
First came much underwear of cotton cloth; then a jacket; then another
jacket; then a gown padded with cotton; then still another quilted coat
of bright calico; and over all a bib. I wore a cap too, but no shoes
until I was able to walk. My hair was shaved off except a small tuft,
which was the beginning, the embryo, you may say, of the queue of the
future.
Speaking of the winter season: The climate in the city of my nativity
is like that of Canton which lies seventy-five miles to the north.
Although no snow falls, and although ice is an unknown quality there,
yet the weather is sufficiently chilly to make a fire desirable. But
Chinese houses, strangely enough I now think, are built for summer, and
to counteract heat rather than to keep off cold; and no such furniture
as a heating stove is known, neither furnaces, nor steam-heaters. So
for warmth we resort to thick clothing, and all sleeves are cut long
with that end in view. A funny consequence is that old and young look
twice as big in winter as in summer.
As a baby I had my playthings—bells, rattles and other knick-knacks.
But there is no such blessed thing as a cradle among the Chinese in
which baby may be soothed and rocked to sleep, neither the healthful,
separate “crib.” I had to sleep with my mother; and I have not a
doubt that I used to cry a deal because I felt too warm, for the
bedclothes—which were plentiful and heavily padded—would sometimes
cover me all up and make it difficult for me to breathe. I would be
suffocated, smothered, and of course I would cry; and my mother would
do everything except give me air and liberty; numberless were the
medicines administered, for Chinese doctors pretend they can cure
the crying of children at night. American mothers have no idea what
impositions Chinese mothers suffer from physicians and sellers of
charms, on account of their superstitious fears concerning the health
and welfare of their children.
In the daytime I used to sit in a bamboo chair which had a board in
front that slid back and forth and served both as a table to hold my
playthings and a lock to keep me in my seat, for it came up to my
waist, so it was not possible for me to leap out. In this stiff fixture
I used to sit hours at a time and watch my mother spin flax.
Our Oriental tastes are too simple to contrive such luxuries as
baby-carriages. We have instead our “carrying tie.” This consists
of a piece of thick cloth, about two feet square, lined inside, and
embroidered outside with beautiful figures, and having four bands sewed
on, one at each corner. To put me into this cloth carriage, the one who
was to carry me, my mother or a servant, would lean over; I was then
laid on her back, the “carriage” thrown over me, and the upper bands
tied around the bosom of the carrier, the lower ones around her waist.
My legs, of course, dangled outside; but it was nevertheless a very
comfortable seat for me, though I doubt if it were so pleasant for the
one who lugged me about. The primary object of this contrivance was to
get me to sleep, and many a fine nap I must have had in my “carriage.”
If I persisted in keeping awake, my carrier would sing to me a lullaby
which, being ordinary conversation put to music more or less tuneful,
is hardly worth a translation.
My earliest recollections are of a sitting-room on the ground floor of
my grandsire’s house, the right wing of which was assigned to my father
at the time of his marriage. It was very long and narrow, with bare
brick walls in which no windows opened upon the street; all the light
and ventilation came through a long narrow opening in the roof. Rain
came through too, as well as light and air, and had to be drained off.
The furniture of this room was simple; a bamboo sofa, a square table,
a few stiff-backed chairs, three long and narrow benches and a couple
of stools. This ascetic simplicity in furnishings may be noticed
everywhere in China; nowhere are even the rich inclined to indulge in
luxury to any extent.
I remember very well the comfortless Chinese bed. Boards took the place
of springs, and benches supported these boards. In ours, surmounting
all was a heavy canopy frame, which, when new, was evidently gilded and
carved. By this frame was suspended mosquito nettings, an absolutely
necessary arrangement. The ground was our floor, overlaid with bricks a
foot square as carpet. No chimney was to be seen anywhere, no heating
apparatus, hardly any ornaments. In summer these rooms were cool and
comfortable; but the winter’s wind and cold rendered them cheerless.
There is only one event of my infant life worthy of record, the death
of my adopted father. He was my father’s brother and had accompanied
my grandfather to the city of his literary administration. He was
but a youth of twenty-one, unmarried and studying for the public
examinations. On his deathbed, he designated me as his adopted son and
heir. My grandfather ratified the choice, so that without my consent I
was transferred from my father’s hands into my uncle’s.
This mode of adoption is common. Usually the adopted son belongs to the
same family or clan, but not always; in any case he has the rights,
privileges and duties of a born son. Among the rights may be mentioned
the inheriting of property, and among the duties the annual offerings
at the family altar and the grave, and the daily burning of remembrance
incense.