From Job to Job around the World

by Alfred C. B. Fletcher

The meals were purely Chinese and I soon became accustomed to rice as the main food-stuff and almost forgot that such articles as bread or butter ever existed. The most monotonous meal of the day was breakfast. This repast consisted of rice and meat—a sort of stew, one day, and the next we would sit down to bowls containing endless strings of a substance somewhat similar to macaroni. This alternating diet was a poor substitute for the usual fresh eggs, coffee and pancakes of the day's initial meal in the West. The noon and evening meals furnished a much larger variety and there was a more favourable chance for an American to hook nourishing food out of the assortment. Such delicacies as fish eyes, shark fins, bird's nest soup, lime-cured eggs, finely chopped and highly-seasoned chicken, vegetables and rice—in numerous forms—comprised the bulk of the menu. Novel and interesting as all this was to me, I was quite ready, after a month's stay in Tangshan, for a porterhouse steak, some bread and butter and a piece of pie.

I learned my duties the day after my arrival. I was to be substitute professor in English, History and Economics, have charge of the college gymnasium and assist in the library, in place of one of the regular teachers who was absent on leave for a month. No new light was thrown on the subject of salary and this matter remained obscure until the time came for my departure. The classroom work was interesting and Chinese pupils are about the same as the general run of such creatures in any American city. One of the requirements for admission to the college was that each student should have a speaking knowledge of English. This knowledge on their part was not very profound, however, and I would talk along at times with such rapidity that the poor chaps could not understand a word.

When off duty I spent many an interesting hour talking to Mrs. Young about (to me) the peculiar ways of the Chinese—their marriage customs, their family life and social ideas. I frequently made visits to the village of Tangshan where I wandered in and out of the quaint markets, ate in Chinese restaurants or attended a religious ceremony at one of the many temples. I occasionally dropped into a theatre where the custom prevailed of entering without paying admission, the cost of the show being collected after one had been present a few minutes making up his mind whether the performance was worth seeing or not.

A Chinese play sometimes lasts for weeks and its claim to a continuous performance beats that of the American picture show. Some of the audience sit on the stage. The orchestra is also on the stage and produces the most unearthly collection of discordant sounds conceivable. The actors, dressed in the most hideous combination of colours, shriek and yelp in tones ranging in variety from the mellow voice of a female Quaker to the gruesome calls of a coyote. Most interesting among the features of the theatres were the conveniences furnished by the proprietors for their patrons. There was a continual shower of wet towels hurled through the air over the heads of the people—by a man on the stage—to boys stationed in various parts of the theatre. One of these moistened rags was passed along each row of seats and the perspiring occupants swabbed off their faces and naked bodies. The facility and skill with which these towels were thrown and caught and the utter disregard of all rules of hygiene on the part of the crowd in the common use of the fabric were marvellous.

The Author in Chinese Garb

Many of the Chinese instructors connected with the college had had their queues amputated. Mo—one of the proctors, however, took pride in his greasy pig-tail and refused to part with it. I suggested to him one time that if he did not cut it off I would do so myself. One evening when Mo was playing Chinese dominoes at President Young's house I determined to tie a tin can to his queue. It required some patience and a little time to carry this out so as not to give Mo any idea as to what was taking place. The rest of the Chinese were in on the joke and gave me what assistance they could, while continuing to play their game. After an hour's work the feat was accomplished and on the end of a heavy cord attached to the proctor's queue was a rusty old Standard Oil can. The Chinese usually play at their games until very late and as I wished to go to bed early I had to hasten the climax. I did this by having a servant announce a hurry call for Mo. The proctor, thinking there was trouble in the boys' dormitory, made a dash towards the door with the oil can dangling behind him. The instant he discovered the can he realised that the servant's call was a sham and in a rage turned on me whom he at once suspected of the mischief. I thought my last day had come and that I was to be mauled to pieces by the frantic handling of an enraged Oriental. He plunged towards me like a huge tiger. Fortunately for me the rest of the company appreciated the joke and came to my rescue. The angry man was calmed and a tragedy was prevented.

It was about this time that I received the following letter from Richardson in Peking: "The job in Tientsin has gone up in a balloon. Particulars later. Let it suffice to say that my Honolulu discipline got the boys on their ear and in the absence of the principal they struck. To avoid complications I beat it. No tears." This is the only information that I received concerning Richardson's sudden flight from Tientsin until I reached Manila some time later. I then forced him into the admission that he was virtually fired. Chinese students have the habit, when their teachers do not suit them, of going on a strike. It seems that Richardson tried to inaugurate a civilised system of discipline which proved to be such a sudden and revolutionary change to the laxity that had prevailed in the class room, up to the time of his advent, that the students rose up in a body and rebelled. They all went on a strike and proceeded to the acting principal of the institution and issued an ultimatum that either Richardson had to leave or they themselves would quit the school. Their decision was final and the acting head of the school informed Richardson that under the circumstances he would have to go. Richardson said that such an arrangement suited him, and that afternoon he resumed his journey.