The Wide World Magazine, Vol. 22, No. 132, March, 1909 — John Shaqi
The Wide World Magazine, Vol. 22, No. 132, March, 1909Various
History
The Wide World Magazine, Vol. 22, No. 132, March, 1909
Various
Adventure stories -- Periodicals; English periodicals; History, Modern -- 20th century -- Periodicals; Voyages and travels -- Periodicals
We were sitting on the ledge, chatting peacefully, when a sudden
premonition of danger made me look up, and the spectacle which greeted
my eyes caused me to utter one agonized gasp and then sink rapidly out
of sight. The pains we had taken to block up the gap at the entrance
had all been in vain, for the various garments which we had used for
the purpose lay scattered on the floor, and the opening was occupied
by a line of little heads, one above the other, whilst ten gleaming
eyes were interestedly fixed upon us! Having followed the direction of
my horrified gaze, Gladys gave a shriek of dismay and joined me at the
bottom of the bath with surprising celerity; and there we remained
in agony, feeling as though we were being boiled alive, and gazing
ruefully at our garments, which all lay well out of reach. Help came
at length in the shape of the proprietor, who, lighting upon the
little group of spectators, immediately sent them off about their
business. Feeble and helpless, we eventually emerged from our retreat
and retired behind our towels to dry; but our trials were not yet
over, for Gladys, leaning too heavily against the flimsy framework
which constituted the partition wall, suddenly disappeared from sight,
and the whole wall with her! Fortunately, the only occupant of the
passage at that moment was a little maid-servant, who speedily rushed
to her assistance, and the damage was soon repaired. Feeling much
shattered in mind, we at length departed from the scene of our
disasters and returned to our own apartment. With the help of two
merry little "nésans," who thoroughly enjoyed the proceedings, we
succeeded in donning kimonos and obis more or less after the correct
manner, and then, determined to carry out the programme quite
properly, we sat down on our heels to partake of our evening meal
before a table three inches high. We drank fish soup out of lacquer
bowls, we dissected unfamiliar concoctions with chopsticks (no easy
matter) and tried manfully to do our duty by them, but when a
large bowl of rice made its appearance we flung etiquette--and
chopsticks--to the winds and fell back upon spoons, as being the only
way of ensuring ourselves anything to eat. Also, when we were certain
of being unobserved (as certain as it is possible to be in a land of
paper walls and sliding panels), we hastily demolished huge chunks of
bread from our private provision store, as, though we did not wish
to hurt the feelings of the "chef," we felt that our inward cravings
_must_ have something substantial to satisfy them.
After dinner we ventured on a stroll through the town; but the fact
that we were repeatedly obliged to retrace our steps in order to pick
up our sandals--which showed an extraordinary facility for parting
company with our feet--considerably hindered our progress, and the
close companionship of many of the inhabitants, who were vastly
interested in us, prevented us from gaining a very good view of the
streets.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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