Humour of the North Part 4

The reporter bowed.

"We travelled three thousand nine hundred miles by this route across the North-West and through the Rocky Mountains." Here Orthodocia dwelt upon the remarkable snow-sheds for protection against avalanches. She went on with vague confidence to speak of the opening up of trade between Canada and j.a.pan by the new railway and steams.h.i.+p line, and I added a few remarks about the interest in j.a.panese art that existed in Montreal, and the advisability of the j.a.panese establis.h.i.+ng firms of their own there; while the reporter flattered our eloquence by taking down notes enough to fill a quarto volume. We had never been interviewed before--we might never be again--and we were determined to make the occasion an ill.u.s.trious one. We were quite pleased with ourselves as the nice little creature bowed himself out, promising to send us the fortunate _s.h.i.+mbun_ which would publish the interview, with a translation of the same, a day or two later.

I suppose it was Orthodocia's effect upon him--the effect I had begun to find usual--but he didn't send the _s.h.i.+mbun_; he brought it next morning with much apology and many bows. I have before me a pencilled doc.u.ment in the handwriting of three persons. The doc.u.ment contains the interview as it was set down in the language of the translator, who sat with an expression of unruffled repose, and spake aloud from the _s.h.i.+mbun_ which he held in his hand. Sometimes Orthodocia took it down, sometimes he took it down himself, sometimes I took it down while Orthodocia left the room. The reason for this will perhaps be self-evident. Orthodocia and I possess the doc.u.ment in turns, to ward off low spirits. We have only to look at it to bring on an attack of the wildest hilarity.

The reporter came entirely in j.a.panese costume the second time, and left his wooden sandals outside on the stairs. He left most of his English there, too, apparently, but he bowed all the way from the door to the middle of the apartment in a manner that stood for a great deal of polite conversation. Then he sat down and we sat down, and Orthodocia prepared to transcribe the interview which had introduced us to the j.a.panese nation from his lips. It was a proud, happy moment.

The reporter took the journal with which he was connected out of one of the long, graceful, flowing sleeves which make life worth living for masculine j.a.pan. He told us that it was the _Hochi-Hochi-s.h.i.+mbun_, and he carefully pointed out the t.i.tle, date beginning and end of the article, which we marked, intending to buy several copies of the paper and send them home. We were anxious that the people there should be kept fully enlightened as to our movements, and there seemed to be a great deal of detail in the article. Its appearance was a little sensational, Orthodocia thought, but she silently concluded, with her usual charity, not to blame the reporter for that, since he couldn't possibly be considered responsible for the exaggerations of the Chinese alphabet.

"Yesterday," translated the reporter solemnly--I must copy the doc.u.ment, which does not give his indescribable p.r.o.nunciation--"by Canada steamer radies arrived. The correspondent, who is me, went to Grand Hotel, which the radies is. Radies is of Canada, and in-the-time-before of Engrand. They have a beautiful countenance."

Here the reporter bowed, and Orthodocia left the room for the first time. I think she said she must go and get her pencil sharpened. She left it with me, however, and I took up the thread of the interview.

"Object of radies' rocomotion, to make beautiful their minds. Miss Elder-Rady answered, 'Our object is to observe habits, makings, and beings of the j.a.panese nation, and to examine how civirisation of Engrand and America prevails among the nation. And other objects is to examine the art and drawing and education from the exterior of the confectionery. In order to observe customs of j.a.pan we intend to rearn a private house.'"

We were getting on swimmingly when Orthodocia reappeared, having recovered in the interval, and told the reporter that he must think foreigners very abrupt and rude, and that he really spoke English extremely well. To both of which remarks he responded, with a polite suavity that induced me to turn my back upon her in an agony of suppressed feeling, "Yes."

"Miss Younger-Rady-measuring-ten-stone-and-wearing-six-shoes-and-a-half, continue, 'The rai-road between the Montreal and Canada is pa.s.sing----'"

"I beg pardon," said the unhappy Orthodocia, with an awful galvanism about the corners of her mouth, "I didn't quite catch what you said--I mean what I said."

The reporter translated it over again.

"Perhaps," said I nervously, "it's a misprint."

"No," the reporter replied gravely, "Miss Younger-Rady."

"Gracious!" said Orthodocia.

"And if by the rai-road we emproy the steamer, the commerce of Montreal and j.a.pan will prevail. Correspondent asked to Miss Younger-Rady may I heard the story of your caravansery?"

Orthodocia again retired. It was a little trying for me, but when he continued, "She answered, 'From Montreal to Canada the distance is three thousand mires,'" I was glad she had gone. I am afraid I choked a little at this point, for just here he decided to wrestle with the pencil himself. When he handed the paper back again I read: "While we are pa.s.sing the distance between Mount Rocky I had a great danger, for the snow over the mountain is falling down, and the railroad shall be cut off. Therefore, by the snowshade, which is made by the tree, its falling was defend. Speaking finish. The ladies is to took their caravansery attending among a few days. Ladies has the liability of many news."

"That last item," said Orthodocia, who had come in with the excuse of some tea, "is frightfully correct."

Having despatched the business of the hour and a half, the reporter began to enjoy himself, while Orthodocia and I tried to seat ourselves where we couldn't see each other's faces in the mirror over the mantelpiece. He drank his tea with his head on a level with the table, and if suction can express approval it was expressed. He said that there were fourteen editorial writers on his _s.h.i.+mbun_, and that its circulation was one million. Which shows that for the soul of a newspaper man s.h.i.+ntoism has no obvious advantages. He dwelt upon the weather for quarters of an hour at a time. The j.a.panese are such a leisurely people. He took more tea, by this time stone cold. He said he would bring a j.a.panese "gentleman and rady" to see us, and in response to our inquiry as to whether the lady was the wife or the sister of the gentleman, he said, with gravity, "I do not know the rady's wife." He asked us for our photographs, and when Orthodocia retired at this for the fifth time he thought she had gone to get them, and stayed until I was compelled to go and pray her to return. It was the ringing of the two o'clock lunch bell that suggested to him that the day was waning, and that perhaps he had better wane too.

THE GRAY LINNET

There's a little gray friar in yonder green bush, Clothed in sackcloth--a little gray friar, Like the druid of old in his temple--but hus.h.!.+ He's at vespers; you must not go nigher.

Yet, the rogue! can those strains be addressed to the skies, And around us so wantonly float, Till the glowing refrain like a s.h.i.+ning thread flies From the silvery reel of his throat?

When he roams, though he stains not his path through the air With the splendour of tropical wings, All the l.u.s.tre denied to his russet plumes there Flashes forth through his lay when he sings;

For the little gray friar is so wondrous wise, Though in such a plain garb he appears, That on finding he can't reach your soul through your eyes, He steals in through the gates of your ears.

But the cheat!--'tis not heaven he's warbling about-- Other pa.s.sions, less holy, betide-- For behold, there's a little gray nun peeping out From a bunch of green leaves at his side.

THE AHKOOND OF SWAT

What, what, what, What's the news from Swat?

Sad news, Bad news, Comes by the cable led Through the Indian Ocean's bed, Through the Persian Gulf, the Red Sea and the Med- Iterranean--he's dead; The Ahkoond is dead!

For the Akhoond I mourn, Who wouldn't?

He strove to disregard the message stern, But he Ahkoodn't.

Dead, dead, dead; Sorrow Swats!

Swats wha hae wi' Ahkoond bled, Swats whom he had often led Onward to a gory bed, Or to victory, As the case might be.

Sorrow Swats!

Tears shed, Shed tears like water, Your great Ahkoond is dead!

That Swats the matter!

Mourn, city of Swat!

Your great Ahkoond is not, But lain 'mid worms to rot: His mortal part alone, his soul was caught (Because he was a good Ahkoond) Up to the bosom of Mahound.

Though earthly walls his frame surround (For ever hallowed be the ground!) And sceptics mock the lowly mound And say, "He's now of no Ahkoond!"

(His soul is in the skies!) The azure skies that bend above his loved Metropolis of Swat He sees with larger, other eyes, Athwart all earthly mysteries-- He knows what's Swat.

Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond With a noise of mourning and of lamentation!

Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond With the noise of the mourning of the Swattish nation!

Fallen is at length Its tower of strength, Its sun had dimmed ere it had nooned; Dead lies the great Ahkoond, The great Ahkoond of Swat Is not.

THE AMATEUR ORLANDO

It was an Amateur Dram. a.s.s.

(Kind reader, although your Knowledge of French is not first-cla.s.s Don't call that Amature.) It was an Amateur Dram. a.s.s., The which did warfare wage On the dramatic works of this And every other age.

It had a walking gentleman, A leading juvenile, First lady in book-muslin dressed, With a galvanic smile; Thereto a singing chambermaid, Benignant heavy pa, And oh, heavier still was the heavy vill- Ain, with his fierce "Ha! ha!"

There wasn't an author from Shakespeare down-- Or up--to Boucicault These amateurs weren't competent (S. Wegg) to collar and throw.

And when the winter time came round-- "Season" 's a stagier phrase-- The Am. Dram. a.s.s. a.s.saulted one Of the Bard of Avon's plays.

'Twas _As you Like It_ that they chose; For the leading lady's heart Was set on playing Rosalind, Or some other page's part.

And the President of the Am. Dram. a.s.s., A stalwart, dry-goods clerk, Was cast for Orlando, in which role He felt he'd make his mark.