Ching flourished his arms to right and left, forming a lane for us to
pass along, and we followed him for the few dozen yards between the
landing-place and his place of business; but it was like passing through
so much human sand, which flowed in again behind us, and as soon as we
were in the shelter of the lightly-built bamboo place, crowded round the
door to stare in.
But Ching had regularly taken us under his protection, and, stepping
into the doorway, he delivered himself of a furious harangue, which grew
louder and louder, and ended by his banging to the door and fastening
it; after which he turned to us with his little black eyes twinkling,
and crying--
"Allee light. Ching light man light place."
We all laughed, of course, and the Chinaman joined in. Then, growing
serious directly, he looked from one to the other.
"You likee dlink?"
"No, no, not yet," cried Barkins.
"No likee dlink?" said the Chinaman wonderingly; and then in a voice
full of reproof, "Sailor boy likee dlink."
"Oh yes, by and by," cried Smith.
"Ah, you wantee buy fan, shawl, ivoly? Fancee shop."
"No, no, we don't want to buy anything now," cried Barkins. "We'll pay
you--"
"Allee light," cried the man, brightening up, for he had looked
disappointed, and he held out both hands for the promised pay.
"Oh, come, wait a bit," I said. "We want you to take us and show us the
shops."
"No, no. Shop no good. Bess shop--fancee shop, Ching."
"Oh yes; but we want to see the others too, and the streets."
"Stleet allee full dust--allee full mud. No good."
"Never mind," said Barkins; "we want to see them, and the temples and
mandarins' houses."
"Pliest shut up temple. Want muchee money. Mandalin call soldier man
muchee, put all in plison. No good."
"They'd better," cried Smith; "why, the captain would blow all the place
down with his big guns."
"No blow Ching fancee shop down. Englis' spoken. Good fliend."
"Look here, Ching. Shut up shop, and come and take us all round the
town to see everything, and we'll each give you a dollar."
"Thlee dollar?" cried the man, holding his head on one side, and raising
three fingers.
"Yes," we cried, and once more his hand went out.
"What can't you trust us?" cried Smith.
"No tlust. All pay leady money. Go 'board. Fo'get."
"Oh no, we shan't," I cried. "And look here, Ching, after we've been
round the town we want to go to the theatre."
"'Top flee day to go to fleatre?" he said.
"Three days! no. We must be back on board at sundown."
"No go fleatre--no time."
"Never mind the theatre, then," cried Barkins. "Now then, off we go.
And I say, boys, let's have something to eat first."
"Wantee something eatee?" cried Ching, making for a canister upon a
shelf.
"No, no," cried Smith, "not that. We want a good dinner. Do you know
what a restaurant is?"
"Lestaulant?"
The Chinaman shook his head.
"Wantee good din': eat muchee soup, fis', cakee?"
"Yes, that's right; come along."
The yellow-faced man went softly to the door and listened, while we
glanced round at the collection of common Chinese curios, carvings,
lanterns, sunshades, stuffed birds, bits of silk, and cane baskets which
filled the place, till he came back to us with a cunning look, and his
eyes twinkling, as Smith said, "like two currants in a penny bun."
"Too muchee men all wait," he whispered. "No talkee talkee;" and,
making a gesture to us to be very silent, he led us through the back of
his shop into a smaller room, closed and fastened the door, and then led
us through another into a kind of yard full of boxes and old tea-chests,
surrounded by a bamboo paling.
There was a gate at the end of this, and he led us through, fastened it,
and, signing to us to follow, led us in and out behind houses, where we
sometimes saw a woman or two, sometimes children at play, all of whom
took refuge within till we had passed.
"Big clowd outside, wait long time," said Ching, with a laugh; and
directly after he led us along a narrow alley and out into a busy
street, which was crowded enough, but with people going to and fro,
evidently on business, and though all stopped to look, and some
followed, it was not a waterside crowd of loafers, but of respectable
people, moved by curiosity to watch the barbarian sailors passing along
their street, but paying most heed to me with the heavy glass.
I'm getting an old man now, my lads--the old boy who is writing this
log; but it all comes back as clear to my mind's eye as if it were only
yesterday: the narrow, busy street, with men shuffling along carrying
packages, baskets of fruit and vegetables or fish, cages too containing
birds, and all in the same way slung at the ends of a stout bamboo
placed across the bearer's shoulder, and swinging there as if the man
were carrying curious-looking pairs of scales.
The shops were as bright and gay as paint and gilding laid on their
quaint carvings could make them, while on their fronts hung curious
lanterns, banners, and signs covered with Chinese characters, all of
which I longed to decipher, and at which I was ready to stop and stare,
till Ching bade me imperatively, "Come 'long."
"Chinaman no fond love English sailor allee same Ching. Don't know
better. Come 'long."
This drew my attention to the fact that among the faces full of
curiosity there were plenty which greeted us with a heavy, dull scowl,
and, recalling the fact that we were only "foreign devils," according to
their teachings, it seemed better to obey our guide, though we were all
bitten by the same desire to stop and inspect the various shops and
stores we passed.
Ching led us farther and farther away from the riverside, and past
enclosures at whose gates stood truculent-looking, showily-dressed men,
who carried swords hung from a kind of baldrick, and scowled at us from
beneath their flat, conical lacquered hats. And I noticed that our
guide always hurried us past these gateways, peeps through which were
wonderfully attractive, showing as they did glimpses of gardens which
looked like glorified, highly-coloured representations of our old
friends the willow-pattern plates.
One in particular was so open that Smith stopped short, heedless of the
presence of three fierce-looking Chinamen, with showy robes and long
pendent moustachios.
"Look here, boys," he cried. "What a game! Here's the old bridge over
the water, and the cannon-ball tree, and the gold-fish pond, and--"
"Come 'long," whispered Ching hurriedly; and he caught our comrade by
the arm, forcing him onward as the guards scowled at us fiercely.
"Here, what are you up to?" cried Smith, resenting the interference.
"Take velly much care of Englis' offlicers. Big mandalin live there.
Men sword velly sharp--cut off head."
"Bosh!" said Smith shortly; "they'd better."
"Oh no, they hadn't," cried Barkins. "We don't want to take you on
board without any head."
"But they daren't hurt us," cried Smith bumptiously. "We're Englishmen,
and our gunboat is in the river. I'm not afraid. Why, there'd be a war
if one of these men interfered with us. Our people would land and burn
up the place."
"No," said Ching quietly. "Send letter to mandalin. Why you men cut
off little offlicer head?"
"Here, who are you calling little officer, Pigtail?" cried Smith
indignantly.
"Mean young offlicer," cried Ching hastily. "Say, Why you men cut chop
young offlicer head off? Mandalin say, Velly solly. He find out who
blave was who chop young offlicer head, and give him lichi."
"You mean toco?" said Barkins.
"No; lichi."
"What's lichi?" I said.
"Tie blave up along post, and man come velly sharp sword, cut him all in
'lit pieces while he live."
"And do they do that?" I asked, in horror.
"Neve' find out blave who chop off head," said Ching, with a queer
twinkle of the eyes. "No find blave, no can give him lichi."
"Sounds pleasant, Poet, don't it?" said Barkins.
"Horrid!" I cried, with a shudder.
"Moral: Don't try to peep into mandarins' gateways, Blacksmith,"
continued Barkins.
"Bosh! it's all gammon. I should like to see one of them try to cut my
head off."
"I shouldn't," I cried, laughing; "and he wouldn't."
"No," said Ching perfectly seriously. "Velly bad have head chop off.
Head velly useful."
"Very," said Barkins mockingly. "Well done, Chinese Wisdom. I say,
Herrick, why is a mandarin like the Grand Panjandrum?"
"Because he plays at the game of catch, catch, can and can't catch the
man who cuts off the English fellow's head," said Smith.
"Wrong!" cried Barkins. "Now you, Poet."
"Because he's got a little round button on the top."
"Good boy, go up one," cried Barkins.
"Hallo! what place is this?"
"Velly good place, eatee drinkee. All velly nicee nicee."
"Here, I say, Ching," cried Smith, "gently; any one would think we were
babies. Stow some of that nicee nicee."
"Yes! Stow all along inside, like ship. Allee good. Come 'long."
For we had reached a showy-looking open-sided building, standing a
little way back in a well-kept garden, with rockeries and tiny
fish-ponds, clipped trees and paved walks, while the large open house
displayed tables and neat-looking waiters going to and fro, attending
upon well-dressed Chinamen, whose occupation was so much in accordance
with our desires, that we entered at once, and Ching led the way to a
table; one of the waiters coming up smiling as soon as we were seated.
"Now then," cried Barkins, who was full of memories of hard biscuit and
tough salt beef, "what are we going to have to eat?"
"I don't know," I said, looking round uneasily. "What have they got?"
"Here, let's make Ching order the dinner," cried Smith. "Look here, old
chap. We can have a good dinner for a dollar apiece, can't we?"
"Velly good dinner, dollar piecee," he replied.
"That's right," said Barkins; "we don't have a chance every day to spend
a dollar upon our dinner. Go it, Ching. Tell the waiter fellow, and
order for yourself too. But I say, boys, we must have birds'-nest
soup."
"Of course," we chorussed, though Smith and I agreed afterwards that we
rather shrank from trying the delicacy.
Ching lost no time in giving the orders, and in a very few minutes the
man bustled up with saucers and basins, and we began tasting this and
tasting that as well as we could with the implements furnished to us for
the purpose, to wit chopsticks, each watching the apparently wonderful
skill with which Ching transferred his food from the tiny saucers placed
before him, and imitating his actions with more or less success--
generally less.
We had some sweet stuff, and some bits of cucumber cut up small, and
some thick sticky soap-like stuff, which rather put me in mind of melted
blancmange with salt and pepper instead of sugar, and when this was
ended came saucers of mincemeat.
"'Tain't bad," whispered Barkins, as we ate delicately. "Peg away,
lads. We're pretty safe so long as we eat what Pigtail does."
I did not feel so sure; but I was hungry, and as the food did not seem
to be, as Barkins said, bad, I kept on, though I could not help
wondering what we were eating.
"I say, Ching," said Smith suddenly, "when's the birds'-nest soup
coming? Oughtn't we to have had that first?"
"Eat um all up lit' bit go," replied Ching.
"What, that sticky stuff?" I cried.
"Yes. No have velly bess flesh birds'-ness for dolla'; but all velly
good. Nicee nicee, velly nicee."
"Don't!" cried Smith excitedly.
"Let him be, Blacksmith," said Barkins; "it's only his way. Ah, here's
something else!"
I looked at the little saucers placed before us, in which, neatly
divided, were little appetising-looking brown heaps, covered with rich
gravy, and smelling uncommonly nice.
"What's this?" said Barkins, turning his over with the chopsticks.
"Velly good," said Ching, smiling, and making a beginning.
"Yes; don't smell bad," said Smith. "I know: it's quails. There's lots
of quail in China. 'Licious!"
I had a little bit of the white meat and brown gravy, which I had
separated from a tiny bone with the chopsticks, and was congratulating
myself on my cleverness, when it dropped back into my saucer, for Ching,
with his mouth full, said quietly--
"No, not lit' bird--lat."
"What's lat?" said Barkins suspiciously.
"No lat," said Ching smiling; "lat."
"Well, I said lat. What is lat?"
Smith put down his chopsticks. I had already laid down mine.
"What's the matter?" said Barkins, who kept on suspiciously turning over
the contents of his saucer.
"He means rat," whispered Smith in an awful tone.
"What!" cried Barkins, pushing himself back with a comical look of
disgust upon his face.
"Yes, lat," said Ching. "Velly good fat lat."
Our faces were a study. At least I know that my companions' were; and
we were perfectly silent while our guide kept on making a sound with his
mouth as he supped up the rich gravy.
"Here, hold hard a minute," said Smith. "I mean you, Ching."
"Yes?" said the Chinaman, with a pleasant smile; and he crossed his
chopsticks, and looked at our brother middy inquiringly.
"What was that we were eating a little while ago?"
"Clucumber; velly good."
"No, no; before that."
"Birds'-ness soup; velly cost much. Not all birds'-ness. Some
shark-fis' fin."
"I don't mean that, I tell you," cried Smith in an exasperated tone of
voice. "I mean that other brown meat cut up small into the brown sauce.
It was rabbit, wasn't it?"
"Oh no," said Ching decisively; "no labbit. Lit' mince-up pup-dog.
Nicee nicee."
Smith turned green, and his eyes rolled so that he actually squinted;
while Barkins uttered a low sound-like gasp. As for me, I felt as I
remember feeling after partaking meekly of what one of my aunts used to
call prune tea--a decoction made by boiling so many French plums along
with half an ounce of senna leaves.
"Oh gracious!" murmured Barkins; while Smith uttered a low groan.
"You both likee more?" said Ching blandly.
"No!" they cried so unanimously that it was like one voice; and in spite
of my own disgust and unpleasant sensations I felt as if I must laugh at
them.
"Oh, mawkish morsels!" muttered Barkins.
"You feel you have 'nuff?" said Ching, smiling. "Oh no. Loas' suck-pig
come soon. You eat velly much more."
"Not if I know it," whispered Smith to me. "I don't believe it'll be
pig."
"What then?" I whispered back.
"Kid."
"Well, kid's nice."
"Get out! I meant baby."
"Ugh! Don't."
"It's too late to say don't," groaned Smith. "We've done it."
"Hold up, old chap," I whispered. "Everybody's looking at you."
"Let 'em," he groaned. "Oh, I do feel so ill!"
"Nonsense! Look at Tanner."
He turned his wild eyes upon Barkins, whose aspect was ludicrous enough
to make him forget his own sensations, and he smiled a peculiarly
saddened, pensive smile; for our messmate was leaning towards Ching.
"Don't eat any more of that," he said faintly.
"Eat um all up; velly good."
"Can one get a drop of brandy here?"
"Dlop blandy? No. Velly nicee 'lack."
"What's 'lack?"
"No, no 'lack! lice spilit."
"'Rack!" I said--"arrack?"
"Yes, allack," said Ching, nodding.
"Let's have some--a glass each," said Barkins; "and look sharp."
Ching summoned one of the smiling waiters, and the order was given.
Then for the first time he noticed that we had not finished the contents
of our little saucers.
"No eat lat?" he cried.