think of it! Ho Chin was the son of the Chinese Consul, and his rank
placed him so far above the ordinary Chinese boys that he was very much
looked up to, and respected by them. Ho Chin did not live in one of the
small, dark, opium-scented rooms in which the rest of the Chinese
children lived, but in the elegant Consulate with its large rooms and
marble stairway; but, after all, he was just a boy, and liked the things
that boys liked. He attended a very select American school, and dressed
in American style. In fact, nothing was too good for Ho Chin--the eldest
son of a Consul. But you know, sometimes he almost wished he was a
common boy, and could run and play, and have the perfect freedom of the
street boy.
Now at school he had of late heard of nothing but the Fourth of July.
“What is the Fourth of July?” he finally ventured to ask.
And Johnny Moore replied, only too glad to be the first one to divulge
all its wonders, “Why, it’s--it’s--fire-crackers, you know, and flags
and soldiers, and popcorn and peanuts, and--and--everything. It’s the
best time of the year; say, it’s just bully! Didn’t you ever see one?”
“No,” gasped the delighted Ho Chin. “Oh, do you think my papa would let
me?” And from that time on he could hardly study, his mind was so taken
up with this new subject, and he acted so strangely at home that his
mama, who was a beautiful Chinese lady and loved her handsome boy, was
very much worried over the change in him. He would leave his tea and
rice untasted, and rush from the table most unexpectedly. Why? Because
he had heard a faint whistle outside, from some of his American boy
friends, and he was eager to get out to them, to talk about the
wonderful event which was coming so near.
The more he thought of it, the more he decided in his mind that he had
better not tell his father about it, because if he told him and should
be refused--if-- Oh, he could not bear the thought. He knew that his
father had never allowed him alone on the Chinese streets, for wise
fathers always accompany their children. For who could tell when the
child of a wealthy and noted man might be kidnapped? And the timid
little Chinese mother was never really happy when he was out of her
sight.
So the time flew by. The Consul was called to a distant part of the
state on official business, and when Ho Chin awoke in the gray dawn of
the early morning his first thought was: “Well, I can’t tell papa when
he is not here, and I know if I told mama she would not let me go. What
will I do? I can’t miss it.
[Illustration: _Through the narrow streets_]
The boys will think I am a coward if I don’t go, and--I have some money
of my own.”
So saying, he crept out of bed, and astonished the servants by his early
demand for breakfast. He knew his dainty mama would not leave her
apartments for some time, for it took so long for the maids to dress her
hair, and manicure her finger-nails, and array her in her rich silks;
so, avoiding the eyes of the servants, he crept stealthily down the long
marble stairway, jingling the money in his pocket as he went, and out
through the narrow streets, whistling merrily, in the perfect delight of
freedom. He knew he was not doing right, but here he was, at the gate of
Johnny’s house, and there was Johnny himself, just running out at the
door, cap in hand. His face wore a look of delight as he saw the Chinese
boy, and he yelled: “How’d you get here?”
“Oh, I just came; nobody knows it--and say! Let’s begin! I’ve got some
money; let’s go to old Sing Chew, he’s got a whole store full of
fire-crackers.”
Johnny’s mama, looking out of the window, remarked to her husband, “So
they allowed him to come, after all. Well, I’m glad of that, for he
seems such a dear little fellow.”
Ho Chin was as happy as it is possible for a boy to be, when he found
himself in the wonderful store. Old Sing Chew was awfully busy, but not
so busy that he could not see the son of the Consul, and hastened to
attend to his wants.
“How is it that you come alone? I neveh see you come unless your _ho
chun_ bling you,” he said.
The boy replied, “Oh, I am a big boy now, and I like to have a good time
on the Fourth of July. This is my friend!--he goes with me.” And the old
man believed him, and admired the beautiful command the boy had of the
English language.
It seemed a wonderful thing to Johnny that any one boy could have so
much money to spend. It seemed great wealth to him, because he had only
twenty-five cents for his fire-crackers, but the young Ho was as
generous as could be, and they left the store with all they could carry.
What a pleasure to be a boy on the streets, where all was noise and
confusion and incessant popping of fire-crackers. One boy threw a bunch
under a horse’s feet, and he ran away and frightened a lot of people.
There were crowds of boys--boys everywhere, and a good many Chinese
boys, but only those of the lower class. What would his papa think if he
should meet him now, his hands and face all black with powder, and a
wild and reckless air about him, which did not seem at all like the
quiet little fellow his papa knew.
Finally the great parade approached. He had only seen Chinese parades,
with the great green dragon, and it had always frightened him; but there
was no dragon in this parade. There were soldiers,--oh, so many hundreds
of them!--with their bright uniforms glittering in the sun, and their
spirited horses prancing and keeping time to the music of the many
bands. Many of the horses became scared at the noise, and Ho Chin, being
a boy, thought it great fun to see them stand on their hind legs and
prance, and act as if they would run over everybody. He did not feel
afraid, and he liked to hear the big drums; they sounded beautiful to
him, almost as beautiful as the Chinese “tom-toms.” There were so many
fine things about that parade that little Ho did not realize until after
it had passed that he was hungry. He mentioned the fact to Johnny, and,
strange to say, Johnny was hungry too. They were a long distance from
home; what should they do?
“If I had any money left we could go into a restaurant and have our
dinner,” said the wary Johnny.
“Oh, could we?” said Ho. “Well, we will go then, for I have plenty of
money.”
Johnny did not need any urging, you may be sure, and many people in the
restaurant were amused to see the two little friends seated at the table
with their fire-crackers on a chair beside them. Still more amused was
the waiter, who brought them such a mixture as he had never before
served for lunch. It was dreadful! but it did not seem so to the two
hungry boys, who, with mouths full, were so interested in talking that
they did not even see the waiter. Little Ho Chin paid the bill with a
kingly air, and they strutted out to pop their crackers for the rest of
the day. They were having a fine time,--but what of the little Chinese
mother?
When her toilet was completed she inquired for her boy, as she knew he
was to have a holiday to-day, and was told that he had breakfasted
earlier than he had ever done before, and they had not seen him since.
They supposed he had gone to her apartments. She had the whole house
searched, and was frightened almost to death. She burned her incense
before the god, and murmured: “Oh, good joss! protect my boy, and bring
him to me.”
At that moment her boy had just blown off his coat-tail with a bunch of
fire-crackers, and it was lucky that he had not been blown to pieces.
The mother could only wait till the day wore on, as her husband was not
there to advise her, and Chinese women are so helpless.
After this day of delight the dark night fell, and not until then was
the little Ho reminded that his mother would be worried, and he must go
home. His fire-crackers were all gone, he was tired, and so covered with
powder and dirt that one would never have recognized him as the
elegantly dressed little boy who had left home in the early morning.
“But,” he reflected, “I have had the finest time of my life; I will
never forget it.”
It must be admitted, though, that his conscience hurt him very badly as
he wended his way home. He wondered if his father could have come home
unexpectedly. There was no way out of it; he must go and face it. He
almost felt as if he would like to run away to some place where there
were no fathers and mothers, and where it was always the Fourth of July
all the year round.
He entered the great iron door, and had reached the top of the marble
stairway, his heart beating with fear. He almost wished now he had not
gone. The silence was so intense that he could almost hear his heart
beat--he feared the worst. But now he heard a rustle of silken garments,
and there came through the portieres--his mother!
With wide-open black eyes he gazed at her. Oh, what would she do? what
would she say?--he stood trembling and speechless; and she?--Why, she
was just a mother, after all, and with one great sob she took him in her
arms and showered kisses on his handsome but very dirty face. He could
feel her tender heart beating through the silken blouse, and she clasped
him closer as she murmured: “The good joss has brought him back to
me--my brave and beautiful little Ho.”
And he whispered, “Mother--forgive me! but it was all so lovely, and--I
just _love_ the Fourth of July!”
And she, being a mother, forgave him.
_THE LITTLE FISHER-MAIDEN_
Lo Luen was the little daughter of a poor Chinese fisherman, and lived
in the Chinatown of Monterey, California. She was born in this beautiful
country, and did not know anything about China, except what she had
heard her parents say. But this country was good enough for her, she
thought, with its endless skies of blue overhead, and the big noisy
ocean dashing its white spray up on the silver sands right in front of
the little hut she called home.
It was a very poor place, and they were very poor people, but Lo Luen
did not know this, because it was all she had ever known, so it did not
disturb her simple celestial mind in the least. Then she could not get
lonely, for there was her small brother, Lo Duck, who was the
cunningest, chubbiest little boy that she had ever seen.
_Mo chun_ was very busy always, in the little hut, as she was a
cigarette-maker, and worked at this all the time she was not doing the
cooking, and making the simple garments for the family.
The father dearly loved his children, and often called Lo Luen his
little fisher-maiden. This was because she was such a help to him in his
fishing. She and little Lo Duck would sit out on the ground in front of
their home for hours at a time, putting bait on the hooks; and this was
a great help, for it saved so much time.
He would cut up a great deal of fish into small bits, and put it in a
box by the children, and they would fasten it on to the hundreds of
hooks on the lines, and then the big round baskets would be all ready
for _ho chun_ to cast the lines into the ocean, and draw out the
beautiful fish. Lo Luen was very proud when she saw the fine fish in the
boat every day, for she almost felt as if she herself had caught them,
since she had put the bait on the hooks. One day she had been working so
hard that her father looked at her, as she sat there in the sun with her
sleeves rolled up, working away as if her life depended upon it, and he
said to her: “Lo Luen, how you likee go out in big boat with _ho
chun_?”
“Oh!” she shouted, as she clapped her little brown hands, “I likee velly
much; I likee catch big fish to bling _mo chun_.”
“All light,” said her father. “We no takee _hai tong_ (baby); he stay
with _mo chun_, he too little.”
Lo Duck objected to this; he wanted to go too, but he would only be in
the way, and then his mother would be worried if he went, so he was
taken into the house, screaming vigorously. The timid mother felt rather
afraid to trust her little daughter out on the great noisy ocean, whose
waves came dashing upon the rocks with a boom like thunder; but the
father said she was a big girl now, and it was time she learned
something of the sea. So, while he fitted up the boat and got the nets
into it, _mo chun_ was dressing the little girl in her warmest blouse,
all heavily padded, and then got out a very thick silk hood, fastening
it securely on her head, and last of all, she took from the padded
_mumboo_ (tea-pot holder) a pot of boiling tea, and gave it to Lo Luen.
“_Maskee-maskee_, my _samen jai_” (never mind, my little boy), she said
to the baby brother, “maybe you go next time.”
_Mo chun_ and the baby boy went with them as far as the boat, and Lo
Luen jumped in gaily, and they were off. The water was smooth to-day,
and everything would surely be well, thought the mother. She went in and
placed a little bowl of steaming rice before the joss, so that he would
protect her little girl from the wrath of the mighty ocean, and lighted
the punks before him, so that the incense filled the little room.
Meanwhile, the little fishing boat went dancing over the blue waves, as
light as an egg-shell, and the little Chinese girl was happy.
They kept near the shore at first, and when they passed the Del Monte
hotel she saw hundreds of little American children running on the beach.
She loved to watch them, as they ran with bare feet, kicking up the
white sand. Some of them were jumping rope with long strands of kelp;
some were hunting shells and bits of sea-moss; some were running into
the foamy surf, filling their bright tin pails with water, and then
hurrying from the big waves they would run back to pour the water into
some little place in the sand, where they were building all sorts of
wonderful things.
Some of the little girls had the most wonderful dolls in their arms,--or
at least they seemed wonderful to a little girl who had no doll, except
just the hard kelp balls which she had dressed up and used for dolls, as
she did not like to ask for one, for fear it would cost too much.
They left the shore now, and went farther out, where the ocean was deep
and the waves were rough. The cool salt spray dashed in her face, and
her long queue hung over the side of the boat and dipped into the water.
_Ho chun_ told her to take it in, or a big fish might come along and
pull her in. Oh, what fun it was to see him cast in the net, and pull
out so many big fish! but she was a little afraid of them, they were so
squirmy and floppy. She cuddled up in one end of the boat, so they could
not jump on her, but _ho chun_ fixed a plank in front of her, so she was
not afraid.
It was her turn now, and so the father produced a stout little fishing
pole and tackle, and she tried her luck at fishing in the big ocean.
Soon she felt a strong tug at her line,--so strong that it almost pulled
her in. She tugged away, though, till she almost fell out of the boat,
but it was too big for her; she could not manage it without the help of
_ho chun_.
“_Maskee!_” he said, and took hold of the pole. She still kept her
small hands on it, though, so she could say that she caught it. Pretty
soon there came up out of the water a big, big salmon, all gold and
sparkling in the sunlight. She just squealed with delight, and her
father said: “Heap good girl; catchee velly big fish.”
They were so interested in the work and were having such fine luck that
they did not realize how late it was getting. Lo Luen was enjoying it
so, that her father could not bear to stop her pleasure.
The darkness fell upon the waters now, and the sea moaned sadly. The
waves grew rougher, and the air colder. It was not pretty when the sun
was not shining on it.
“The wateh too black now; I no likee; I want see _mo chun_,” falteringly
said the little one.
They could see the dim outlines of great ships with their lights sending
long, narrow rays across the dark of the ocean. They looked like stars,
and made one feel as if they were not alone on the vast waters.
“We go home now--see _mo chun_; get nice hot _tea_,” said the father, in
a kind tone, as he clasped the little figure closely to him, and started
to row home. Of course Lo Luen did not really feel afraid, with her
father so near, and said: “I no ’flaid; but I likee go fast. I cold and
hungly--that’s all.”
Her father smiled in the dark as he murmured consolingly, “Yes--that’s
all.”
Lo Luen was thinking, as she crouched there, nestled up against _ho
chun_, “How pletty those dolls were; I be so happy if I had one--just
one, foh my velly own.”
The moonbeams lit up the water in a silvery path, and as Lo Luen looked
at this path and thought how very beautiful it was, she noticed
something floating in the light and bounding up and down on the waves.
It looked like a big lump of seaweed.
“What is that, _ho chun_?” she said, with childish curiosity.
“Oh, I think just a piece of wood or a bunch of kelp; you likee get it,
little girl?”
“Yes, we see what it is,” she said.
It seemed determined to get away from them, for almost every time they
were near enough to touch it a big wave would come, and take it away in
the dark, and it would be lost to sight for a while. But soon the light
revealed it right within reach. _Ho chun_ put out his hand and grasped
it, and putting it on the fish said: “We see when we get home,” and
rowed away as fast as he could.
At home the little mother was getting very uneasy. What could keep them
so long? “_Cheung kan ye lok_” (it is getting very late), she said. Oh,
why had she ever let her go? To think of her _pao chu_ (precious pearl)
being out on the big ocean at night. She imagined all sorts of horrible
things, and blamed herself. Perhaps she had not set enough food before
the joss, nor burned enough incense. She had the tea all nice and hot,
and knew if nothing had happened they would be very hungry when they
reached home. So she lighted more punks before the god, and had already
sung the baby’s little Chinese song:
“My little baby--little boy blue--
Is as sweet as sugar and cinnamon too;
Isn’t this precious darling of ours
Sweeter than dates and cinnamon flowers?”
He now lay asleep on his couch, and she was all alone.
After what seemed an age to her she heard the sound of a boat being
dragged upon the sand, and ran to the door of the hut, and stood there
looking out upon the beach. “Lo Luen! Lo Luen!” she called out in the
darkness, “_Yap loi le!_” (come in!) and there was a rush of sandalled
feet, and in just a moment two cold brown hands were clasped in her warm
ones, and a dear little cold nose was pressed against her face. “Lo
Luen, precious pearl, you have come back, and the joss is good,” she
said.
After the fish were put away _ho chun_ came in, and everything was peace
and happiness again. The warm room seemed more welcome than ever before,
for they were benumbed with cold, and oh, so hungry! _Mo chun_, with all
gentleness and love, soon had them seated, with bowls of steaming rice
before them, and fried fish, and other good things which she had
prepared in their absence.
After supper Lo Luen happened to think of the mysterious bundle of
seaweed, and _ho chun_ went out and brought it in. It was very wet, and
smelled of the sea.
“I guess it’s only a piece of wood with kelp on,” said _mo chun_; but
anyway, they tore the wet seaweed from it, while Lo Luen looked eagerly
on. What could that be sticking out of the weed? It looked--it actually
looked like a doll’s foot. It couldn’t be, and yet--With a great cry of
joy Lo Luen saw her father uncover the treasure. All the pent-up feeling
of starved child-life was in her cry, for there, disclosed to her
dancing, oblique eyes was a doll--a real one, and a very beautiful one.
She could not believe it at first, but rubbed her eyes. They were all
astonished, for this was indeed an event in their barren lives.
The doll opened her eyes as if she were alive, and seemed to gaze at
them in gratitude for being saved from the cruel water. Lo Luen hugged
it to her wildly beating heart and her face beamed with a rapturous joy
the like of which had never before come to her. She was such a little
mother, always, and now she would have something upon which to shower
all the wealth of love repressed in her warm little heart.
They did not attempt to solve the mystery. To them it was enough that
this beautiful toy had been sent to them from the waters. It may have
been that the doll was lost in some shipwreck, or that some of the
little maidens at Del Monte had left it too near the water, and the
waves had carried it away. It belonged now to the little Chinese
fisher-maiden, and that was enough to know.
She slept that night with the precious doll in her arms--dear little Lo
Luen!
_THE FINDING OF SING HO_
Little Sing Ho did not look very happy as he stood out on the pavement
in front of his home. He had intended taking a beautiful walk, and had
his umbrella already over his head, preparatory to starting, when his
_mo chun_ appeared on the scene, and said: “Where you going, _hai tong_
(baby)?”
Now Sing Ho did not like to be called _hai tong_, for he felt that he
was almost a big man, so he replied: “I going foh walk, down stleet.”
“No, no! you too small; you stay home now, and maybe bimeby _mo chun_
take you,” she said; and then she hurried into the house to see if the
rice was burning. When she had disappeared he stood there for a moment,
with the gay umbrella over him, looking very much displeased.
He was only four years old, it is true, but do you know, he often
thought he knew more than his dear mother. Now Sing Ho was the only
child, and had always been loved and petted, and had never been denied
anything in his short little life. He remembered many walks he had taken
with his father and mother, and he had always had such a good time that
he thought it would be still better if he could take a walk all alone.
He had just seen two of his little friends, with their queer little
Chinese caps on,
[Illustration: _Copyright, 1900, by Schulze._
_Two of his little friends, with their queer little Chinese caps on_]
and they had said they were going for a walk, so why not he?
He knew his _mo chun_ was very busy, embroidering a _blouse_ for him to
wear on the New Year, and the San Nin (New Year) would be here
to-morrow. So he thought in his baby way that he would take advantage of
his mama, and only walk down the street a little way, and she would
never know. He was too small to realize that it is a very difficult
matter for even grown-up persons to find their way through the narrow
and tortuous streets of the big Chinatown of San Francisco. He could not
be expected to know these things.
So he wandered on, and soon forgot his fear in watching the beautiful
things all around him. Chinatown was in holiday attire, and as far as
the eye could reach the narrow streets were a perfect mass of bloom and
beauty. On both sides of the streets were ranged great stands of the
China lily and fragrant almond blossom, with delicate shades of pink.
Someway he found it very hard to get past the store windows, as they
seemed to have so many things in them that boys like, and he forgot
everything in the delight of gazing at them, and pressed his eager
little round face right up against the glass in some places, and poked
his cunning little nose into a fragrant bunch of lilies, to inhale their
sweetness. _Mo chun_ had some lilies at home, but not so many nor such
beautiful ones as these. At every door were strange Chinese letters,
and he looked longingly at great bunches of peacock feathers with their
many eyes, and the gaudy rosettes of red paper which are everywhere on
the New Year. Almost every one that he met carried a brown paper parcel
of pork and an onion, or some kind of funny looking lettuce, for the
Chinese love pork better than the Americans love turkey, and it had to
be a very poor person indeed who did not feel able to buy himself a
piece of pork on the New Year.
Chinamen of all kinds were thronging the streets, and so many children,
too, were toddling along with some older person, that no one noticed
that the little boy was alone.
He believed he had only to walk back just a little way and he would be
at home. He did not know that he had made several turns, and that it
would be impossible for him to find his way back alone.
Naughty little Sing Ho! There were so many American people, too, in the
shops, buying curious and beautiful things. On both sides of the street
were rows of great dragon lanterns. He looked at them in childish
wonder, longing for the great swaying globes. Suddenly he felt something
hit him on the arm, and, looking upward, saw far above him some
beautiful Chinese ladies on a balcony; and what is this that they have
thrown down? Something very near to the heart of a boy,--a bright bunch
of fire-crackers!