ON YICK’S residence was quite charmingly situated in a narrow gorge down
which a small torrent ran, winter and summer alike. This small stream
was turned to every use that the ingenious and painstaking Chinaman so
admirably accomplishes invariably where running water is present. This
particular hill stream, although not more than two miles in extent, from
its source where it bubbled as a spring from the rocks some fifteen
hundred feet above sea-level to where it joined the sea across the sandy
beach of the small village of Tai Kok, had been trained and coaxed to
turn three mill-wheels, flood acres of paddy in irregular curved
mud-walled fields, varying in size and shape from a table-cloth to a
barrack square, from a crescent to a hexagon, after which it afforded
nutriment and recreation for numerous ducks, water for the pine-apple
fields on the hillsides and also for cooking purposes, and possibly for
washing, to the peaceable inhabitants of Tai Kok. This little nameless
stream through countless ages unostentatiously has continued to benefit
hundreds of our oblique-eyed fellow-men in Southern China.
All the above was so familiar to On Yick that possibly he had never
given it a thought. To-day, as he sat making bamboo baskets outside his
mill, his mind was more occupied with thoughts of the daughter of Tak Wo
than with the economical conservancy of streams. The stranger
approaching the hills up the rock-strewn gorge was first aware of a
continual stamping noise; on a closer approach the air became, in
addition to the noise, filled with an all-pervading sweet odour of
sandal-wood. Smells are ubiquitous in China, but pleasant smells are
often painfully few and far between. This smell, however, emanates
directly from On Yick’s abode. The mill-wheel turned by the stream has
its axle prolonged on one side, and on this are projecting pieces of
wood, which, as the wheel revolves, press down heavy wooden levers which
pass through the house wall. At the further end of these levers are
heavy balks of timber, which rise and fall into a stone trough in the
mud floor. The trough is filled with chips and odd pieces of
sandal-wood, the revolving wheel and consequent stamping of the levers
breaking it to a fine powder, the smaller particles of which float about
in the air, and soon make their presence felt in the nostrils of anyone
ascending from the village.
The powder when stamped to a sufficient fineness is packed tight in palm
leaves, placed in bamboo baskets, and shipped in junks from Tai Kok to
the nearest city or fu, where it is employed in the manufacture of
“joss-sticks,” so that the fragrant smell may gladden the noses of
innumerable greasy idols and further blacken the roofs of countless
temples and houses.
To-day the middleman of the village had been despatched by On Yick to
the house of Tak Wo to make preliminary talk with a view to a marriage
being arranged between On Yick, mill-owner, and the daughter of Tak Wo,
grass merchant.
The meeting of On Yick and the daughter of Tak Wo had been
unconventional but not unpremeditated as far as the lady was concerned.
It happened in this way. One bright winter morning Hoo, the daughter of
Tak, had gone to the hillside to cut grass, and it so happened that On
Yick sat outside his door in the sun mending a grass sandal. He sat clad
in a pair of blue cotton pantaloons only, his broad, sunburned back
exposed to the cheerful warmth of the sun, when Hoo, passing behind him,
could not resist the temptation of picking up a frog and throwing it at
the handsome young miller. Her aim was true, and the soft, bloated
creature struck On Yick just below the shoulder-blades. Quickly turning
round he was greeted with a merry laugh and the sight of the bare-footed
Hoo scampering away down the hillside.
From that moment the flame of love was kindled in the bosom of On Yick.
The possession of Hoo, the daughter of Tak Wo, became the one object of
his dreams. Cupid has many ways of assailing men’s hearts, sometimes by
the pressure of a hand, the dropping of a handkerchief, the tearing of a
ball dress. So why not by the hurling of a live frog on a susceptible
young man’s back? Love must exist as long as human beings tread this
earth. So what matters it by what incident it was first engendered in
each particular case!
The first day’s talking passed off satisfactorily, and the go-between
came to On Yick’s mill the same evening and reported that Tak Wo was
inclined to look with some favour on the proposition of an alliance
between On Yick and his daughter. On was delighted, and having liberally
rewarded the go-between, retired to his kang and soon fell into the
happiest of dreams, in all of which Hoo, a frog, and a sandal-wood mill
played important parts.
The idea of getting Hoo comfortably married was very pleasing to Tak Wo.
He was a widower, and his daughter, although only sixteen, had
repeatedly given him much anxiety. We can judge from the frog incident
that Hoo sadly lacked that becoming reserve expected of a Chinese girl.
Another instance of her want of conventionality is shown by the fact
that she managed to conceal herself and overhear the conversation
between her father and the go-between with regard to her proposed
marriage.
Unlike On, Hoo had given no further thought to the frog and bare-back
incident, but on overhearing the long conversation between her father
and the go-between, she conceived a most violently passionate affection
for On Yick.
Hoo was a girl of slightly unstable mental equilibrium, and of this her
father was well aware from various unpleasant and hard-to-be-tolerated
jokes that had been perpetrated at his expense by his daughter. Hence
the anxiety of Tak Wo to rid himself of this daughter by a suitable
marriage.
The idea of love and marriage supplied the just sufficient tilt to Hoo’s
mental balance to upset the proverbial apple-cart; the result was that
between romantic fancies, love for On Yick, and a nearly complete
idleness, she became more or less a monomaniac. Her every idea centred
on On Yick, but the small kink in her brain prevented her from doing the
right thing at the right time.
The go-between and On Yick were now much occupied in deciding a suitable
present to be sent to Tak Wo. Of course it was understood that Tak Wo
would only retain a small portion of the gifts sent; still it was
necessary to make as imposing a show as possible.
Eventually the coolies were hired and entrusted with the presents for
the prospective father-in-law. These consisted of half a young pig,
split from his nose to his tail, and varnished, two live geese, two
white fowls, many cakes, a jar of preserved fruits, a thick bundle of
incense sticks, and two bottles of samshu.
Tak Wo was delighted. He selected as many of the presents as were seemly
and returned the balance to the miller, after rewarding the carriers
with a few cash. The versatile Hoo was away from home when the presents
arrived. Her brain was so engrossed with thoughts of her lover, and her
desire to speak with him had so carried her away, that she had resolved
on the unheard-of boldness of despatching him a letter. Being unable to
write herself she had recourse to the village scribe, and in order to
pay him for inditing the letter, she stole her father’s long
tobacco-pipe with the brass bowl and jade mouthpiece. The letter was
sent, and Hoo returned home, where she found her father good-tempered
and smiling but uncommunicative. Two empty bottles near him may possibly
have accounted for his beaming but reticent condition. So Hoo retired to
sleep with her silly head filled with the pleasantest and most romantic
dreams.
On Yick, on receipt of the letter, was at once seized with a great
impatience for the advent of the go-between, as, being unable to read,
he desired that highly educated person to convey the meaning of the
epistle to his illiterate self. The go-between arrived, and already,
from his friend the scribe, was acquainted with the contents of the
letter which On Yick thrust into his hands. Having adjusted his
brass-rimmed spectacles and cleared his throat, the go-between read as
follows:—
“O most honourable and dearly loved one! This insignificant person fades
away for a sight of her lover’s form, for the sound of his voice, for
the clasp of his arms. Come, come, my lord, your slave awaits you at
sundown between the third house and the paved way. Come! Come! Your
handmaid faints and desires you as the sailor desires the land, as the
beggar desires clothing, as the famished desires rice.”
Although not particularly elegant in its phrases, still this letter
filled On Yick’s breast with the liveliest sensations of love and joy,
and he watched the westering of the sun with the greatest impatience.
Meanwhile affairs had proceeded in the house of Tak Wo somewhat
unsmoothly. Tak Wo, in consequence of his previous night’s libations,
awoke somewhat late and withal surly. For a considerable time he
searched about the house, and at last addressed his daughter, demanding
of her the whereabouts of his pipe. Hoo was thereupon obliged, at some
length, to explain that during the previous night she had been awakened
by a small but benevolent dragon who, it appeared, lived in the kang, or
oven, on which Tak Wo slept; that the dragon had requested her to give
him Tak Wo’s pipe; that she had done so, thrusting the pipe into the
glowing embers of millet stalks in the flue; and that the dragon
appeared highly pleased.
Tak was highly annoyed at this recital, and left the house to seek some
of his cronies to obtain a much-desired smoke. Finding congenial
companions, and having told them the news of his daughter’s approaching
marriage, he was suitably entertained with tobacco and fiery spirits,
and so remained absent the whole day.
The love-sick Hoo’s directions to On Yick had been somewhat indefinite,
and the latter, through an insufficient knowledge of the topographical
specialities of the village of Tai Kok and the rapidly falling darkness,
took a wrong direction, which resulted in a breaking of the lover’s
tryst. There were only three houses in Tai Kok which stood on the
sea-shore. Having passed these the wayfarer either passed inland to
other houses of the village, or continued his way along a stone-flagged
causeway which ran along the coast. Inshore this causeway was lined by a
hedge of screw-pines, and inside this again was a narrow pathway, and
then swamp between it and the remainder of the village. Hoo’s intention
was to meet On Yick on the pathway between the swamp and the hedge of
screw-pines, but On Yick continued along the causeway to seaward, which
misunderstanding led to disaster. The screw-pine from a distance is a
picturesque addition to any landscape, but a too close acquaintance with
this form of vegetation is trying. If the Infernal Regions possess any
forms of vegetation, the screw-pine probably figures amongst the flora
of that region. For instance, it will grow in a swamp or on waterless
sand; it seems indifferent whether the water that laves its roots is
born of fever-laden mud swamps or of the pure salt sea. Its stem is of a
gnarled and twisted hardness, but useless as timber; its pretty green
leaves are furnished with spikes that hold like fish-hooks, and hurt the
flesh of human beings like hot needles. No animal will eat its leaves,
and if burnt by fire it grows again as if nothing had injured it; and to
crown all, it possesses a fruit which, to the ordinary observer, differs
little from the luscious and juicy pine-apple, but which possesses no
usefulness whatever, it being about as nourishing and juicy as a lump of
mahogany. To prevent the inroads of cattle or the advance of an enemy
the screw-pine ranks high amongst nature’s impassable obstacles. But
enough of this digression into matters which are more suitable for a
work on Botany or Forestry.
At sundown, true to her appointment, the love-sick Hoo proceeded slowly
along the mud path by the swamp, and the no less impetuous On Yick
arrived at the third house of the village, and with a masterful stride
proceeded along the stone causeway to meet the object of his adoration
in the rapidly forming dusk.
Hoo nervously ran along the mud path, and at last heard footsteps
approaching. The felt-soled boots of On Yick made but little noise on
the stone causeway, and consequently in the dark Hoo imagined that he
approached her along the mud path.
“Is it my lord who approaches his slave?” softly cried Hoo.
“I come, pearl worth a thousand taels, dove with golden wings, little
fawn with horns of jade!” replied On Yick in his most loving tones.
“But your humble handmaid sees not the light of her life, the stream
that satisfies her soul’s thirst. Where art thou? Come to me, or I faint
from desire.”
On Yick heard these most soul-moving expressions of maidenly love, and
made a wild rush from the causeway in the direction of his adored one’s
voice. The result was most regrettable. On Yick fell headlong into the
impenetrable barrier of screw-pines, his silk jacket and overalls were
torn beyond hope of repair, he lost his new velvet-topped white-soled
shoes, and, moreover, sustained many nasty wounds on his legs, arms, and
face from the sharp spines in the hedge. Hoo, of course, did the wrong
thing. Instead of rushing to her lover’s assistance and aiding him in
his dilemma, she burst into uncontrollable merriment and ran home, the
miserable On Yick being allowed to extricate himself from the prickly
hedge alone, whence he proceeded in the dark—muddy and bleeding—to his
house, his raiment torn and his new velvet shoes lost forever in the
sticky mud into which he had fallen.
Tak Wo returned to his house at dusk expecting a warm meal and
afterwards a comfortable sleep on the pleasantly warmed kang. He was
greatly incensed, however, at finding his daughter absent and no rice
and pork prepared, and on the appearance of Hoo shortly after his
return, he flew into such an ungovernable rage, that he gave her a
severe beating and retired to bed in a very ill temper. Hoo also retired
to bed supperless, but in sullen ill humour. She passed a sleepless
night, bent upon revenging herself upon her father, who had so suddenly
brought her down from her heights of romantic love-dreams.
The unfortunate incidents of the previous night were obliterated from
the memory of the healthy-minded On Yick after a night’s sleep, so with
a good heart he arrayed himself next morning in order to present himself
to Tak Wo to make the final arrangements for his marriage with Hoo.
Tak was feeling very evil-minded, but he received the suitor for his
daughter’s hand with becoming formality. Anything would be better than
having this awful daughter in his house, and On Yick found all his
proposals most willingly acquiesced in by his prospective father-in-law.
Hoo had disappeared without partaking of or preparing any morning meal,
and the two men talked and talked, and smoked innumerable pipes of
tobacco. The conversation between these two continued in the politest
manner possible, and every detail of etiquette was observed by each
party. Tak Wo was occupied in delivering a most erudite and polite
discourse on the duties of a son-in-law to his wife’s father when On
Yick became conscious of a strong smell of burning in the house. Soon he
saw a thin snake of flame creep along one of the beams overhead, but
still politeness held him silent. It was not for such an insignificant
person as himself to interrupt the discourse of Tak Wo and inform him
that his honourable house was on fire.
The admirable precepts of Tak Wo, however, were suddenly cut short by a
burning spark falling on his shaven pate. Forgetful of his dignity he
jumped up and rushed from the house, followed by On Yick. The
disgraceful sight that met their gaze once outside the door will ever be
a reproach to the descendants of Tak Wo. Two large stacks of dry grass
were ablaze, as well as the roof of the house, and the crowning horror
was Hoo, now evidently possessed of hundreds of devils, dancing with a
burning brand in her hand, and shouting most unseemly remarks
disparaging her father and all his ancestors. On her father’s appearance
Hoo betook herself to the hills, and the efforts of the people of Tai
Kok being at once turned on extinguishing the conflagration, her escape
was easy.
The fire resulted in the loss of two stacks of grass and the house, but
most of Tak Wo’s property was in silver, buried some three feet beneath
the mud floor of his house, consequently his pecuniary loss was not
great; but the disgraceful behaviour of his daughter had caused him such
a serious “loss of face” that he decided on having recourse to severe
measures.
The junk of Man Yuen was lying in the harbour of Tai Kok. Man Yuen
carried much of the village’s produce to the larger towns, and in
addition was probably, if occasion offered, a pirate. Tak Wo went to the
honourable Man Yuen and explained (with the aid of fifteen taels) that
he (Man Yuen) was welcome to carry off Hoo and sell her as a slave to
whoever would buy her, that Man Yuen could take the purchase money,
provided he captured and removed Hoo, who undoubtedly was possessed of
devils.
Man Yuen’s crew were successful in their search, and Hoo departed from
Tai Kok for ever. On Yick possesses now a wife who has never dreamt of
frogs or of throwing them at young men, and his mill prospers as his
family increases.
Also there is a Mrs. Jones, living in Heatherbell Villas, Deepdeen Road,
Peckham Rye. This good lady regales her visitors with extracts from her
daughter’s letters, the daughter being in China. The latest extract from
Mrs. Jones’ daughter reads as follows:—
“It is so difficult to understand the Chinese, but dear George is so
hopeful. So far we have made no converts, but the captain of a junk, who
seems to wish to learn ‘The Truth,’ has supplied me with such a nice
young Chinese girl as a servant, and we already have great hopes of
leading her from darkness. Her Chinese ideas are very funny. She has
mended my stockings with patches of orange-peel and has sewn black boot
buttons all round the bottoms of George’s white duck trousers. Her wages
are small, and we pay them monthly to Man Yuen, her uncle. Her name is
‘Hoo,’ and although her carelessness has nearly caused the mission-house
to be burnt down on three separate occasions, we can’t help loving her,
and George will receive her into the ‘Church’ as soon as she shows a
desire for true knowledge.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------