A Yankee in the Far East Part 9

"This railroad over which I've ridden, sir, is an earnest of greater things in store for China. The rolling stock is fine, the road well built, and wonderfully well ballasted.

"There is little left to be desired in the service on your trains.

With the architectural taste displayed in this splendid station house, none but a carping critic could find fault. I'm pleased with what I've seen, sir; pleased--delighted, sir."

The soldier said something in Chinese.

I felt a good deal better after what I'd said, and I think what the soldier said made a hit with him, but we weren't getting anywhere, when, at that moment, there came along a foreigner to board the train.

He'd overheard part of my talk. He looked at me and said: "You're from the United States, aren't you?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: I felt a good deal better after what I'd said, and I think what the soldier said made a hit with him]

"Pretty near," I said.

"Oh, from Canada?" he asked.

"No," I said, "I'm from New York State."

"Why," he said, "I was educated in Oneida County, your State."

"Indeed!" I said. "What inst.i.tution?"

"Hamilton College," he said.

"And your name is?"

"'John Blank'," said he. With a mighty bound I landed in that man's arms. I fell on his neck and wept.

"Dr. 'Blank'," I said, "you're the one man in China I'm looking for. I have a warrant for your arrest."

We got into the dining car, and dined and talked, and talked and dined, and talked, until we reached Tientsin, four hours later.

We changed cars there and rode into Pekin. All the way it was the same level country, well-tilled fields, mud huts, and ugly graves. From Tientsin, a city of 1,000,000, to Pekin, a city of 1,300,000, is ninety miles, and not one-tenth the population in evidence that you'll find on that ninety-mile ride between New York and Philadelphia.

[Ill.u.s.tration: With a mighty bound I landed in that man's arms]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Dr. 'Blank'," I said, "you're the one man in China I'm looking for. I have a warrant for your arrest"]

XIII

TEN THOUSAND TONS ON A WHEELBARROW AND THE ANANIAS CLUB

I was glad of the opportunity to come to Pekin, where I might see with my own eyes a Pekin cart.

Modes of travel and transportation have always had a fascination for me.

For instance, I was so captivated with the Shanghai wheelbarrows, that the first thing I did after arriving in Shanghai on my first trip to China was to tackle the first Chinaman I saw in the street pus.h.i.+ng one of those empty barrows, d.i.c.ker with him, and then and there buy that wheelbarrow.

Three dollars was the consideration, but, with first cost, boxing, freight, and duty it cost me $29.05 landed in Clinton--and I've never regretted the purchase.

When telling circles of chance acquaintances and friends at home that a Chinaman would carry a mixed cargo of from five to ten thousand tons on one of those barrows, the chance acquaintances would cast significant glances and cough, while my dear friends would hand me life members.h.i.+p cards in the Ananias Club.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The chance acquaintances would cast significant glances and cough]

My only regret in the matter is, that in telling about the Shanghai wheelbarrow I was not acquainted with all its possibilities. When a chance acquaintance doubts my word it's immaterial to me whether he is caught with a nasty little hacking cough, or contracts a violent and fatal congestive chill, and as for those dear doubting Thomas friends of mine who, from me, might have stood for a load of, say from three to five thousand tons--for their benefit I want to chronicle here that as you travel north from Shanghai they put _bigger_ loads on that same pattern of wheelbarrow and rig them up with mules or sails, and I have photographs to prove it; and apologies will be accepted.

Now as to the Pekin cart:

We have all read of it and seen pictures of it, and travelers, irresponsible travelers of no reputation, or travelers without a sensitive and jealous regard for their veracity, have so misled me about that vehicle that what I expected to see was two wheels sawed off the end of a log, set on an axletree, a hood covering, and two stiff saplings for shafts. And, as I shut my eyes to let the picture sink in and tried to recall the motive power, I couldn't recall that there was any motive power. The cart was stuck in an awful rut in the streets of Pekin, and even though motionless, I could hear it squeak.

A dead dog was lying to the right of the cart, the carca.s.ses of a couple of cats to the left, and in the cart a load of human corpses--the life having been joggled out of them by being jounced over the awful ruts in the Pekin streets.

But now I find the Pekin cart with a well-tired wheel, having a felloe six inches wide, and for ornamentation studded thickly with wrought-iron headed nails the size of boiler rivets. The wheel is thickly set with spokes centering in a splendid hub set on a well-oiled axletree. The hood, however, is true to the picture, but the whole affair is varnished and s.h.i.+nes like an undertaker's cart; and hitched to it is the most splendid mule I have ever seen in all my wanderings.

That mule would redeem any kind of a vehicle he might be hitched to--such a large, fat, well-groomed, glossy mule.

His ears are several sizes shorter than those of the mule of story and of song--an urbane, genial, gentle, loving-looking mule--I don't believe the Pekin mule would kick. Judged from the obvious care that's bestowed on him, the Pekin mule has no kick coming.

And the ruts in the streets of Pekin?--there are no ruts. Wide thoroughfares, well paved.

And the rubbish in the streets? Not there. It's a fairly clean city; a city of many modern and splendid buildings. A city of many legations set in ample grounds, with beautiful and imposing entrances bordered with trees, shrubbery and flowers. A city of ancient Chinese temples; a city set in a fertile plain and walled about--Pekin is a different-looking city than I expected to see.

Martial law prevails--the country is under martial law.

China a republic? A joke!

No more absolute monarchy could be imagined than Yuan s.h.i.+h-Kai's China today.

An upper and lower house of his own choosing, an autocrat, a dictator, wis.h.i.+ng for the old order, and himself the emperor. These are pretty generally the opinions you'll hear expressed. He seems to be the one statesman in a country of 400,000,000 whom foreigners and Chinese generally center on as the only man to hold the reins. Hated by many, feared by more, plots and counterplots against his life--all agree that chaos would result were he taken away.

China today, some say, is a smoldering volcano, but more will not venture an opinion as to what the future holds for her.

With her centuries of conservatism drilled into a population which has submitted to official greed and graft, and accepted it as a matter of course, China has few statesmen, none on the horizon to contest the supremacy of Yuan s.h.i.+h-Kai, who has seized the reins of power. That China has not fallen to pieces long before is the wonder of students who have spent their lives in China, and the most profound opinion hazarded is--she has lumbered along because she has; and because she has, the chances are she will continue to lumber along. What seems to be her weakness is her strength--400,000,000 patient endurers, with power to endure and not ask too much for the privilege to exist. There are no other people with their peculiar temperament. With a nervous organization that don't give way to trifles, a people who can grin and bear it--this seems to be the opinion of those who are in best position to render judgment.

Greedy nations have stood by and waited for her to fall to pieces, and are even now waiting. China has fooled them right along, and she may fool them yet a spell--so keep your eye on China, but keep on winking.

XIV

"MISSOURI" MEETS A MISSIONARY

I found "Missouri" in Shanghai on my return from Pekin, and he seemed to be in a dejected mood. Something had evidently gone wrong with him.

"How do you like Shanghai, 'Missouri'?" I asked.