From Job to Job around the World

by Alfred C. B. Fletcher

A bedroom in one of these inns has no conveniences. There is a "thing" to sit on and a "thing" upon which to place food, but it requires a great deal of intuition to know that they are respectively a chair and a table. There is a brick platform in one corner of the room for a bed. This is called a kong in Shansi Province. Beneath these kongs a fire is built on cold nights. It was at Tai Yuam Hsien, where he spent the second night, that Richardson, while sleeping soundly on a kong, was awakened about two A.M. by being nearly baked. The coolie who was acting as stoker, had replenished the oven so generously with fuel that the bed resembled a crematory.

For two and a half days he didn't see a foreigner or meet a Chinese who could speak English. He communicated with his servant by means of signs. As he entered each village he at once became the chief object of interest. At the inns the scene on his arrival resembled a circus procession. All the youngsters, beggars and cripples followed him into the yard and watched the "animal" eat. At Tai Yuam Hsien they became so numerous and so persistent in their pleas for cash that Richardson had to flash his pistol to instil some fear into them and impress them with the fact that he was a dangerous man.

This three days' journey was filled with inconveniences, but gave Richardson an excellent opportunity to get a glimpse of Chinese rural life. The country through which he passed was green and the farms along the way gave a Mississippi Valley aspect to the scenery. The methods of farming were somewhat different, however. To see hundreds of acres of wheat planted in rows like radishes and hoed by hand was hardly American. There were no cows or horses but, instead, thousands of goats and sheep flocked the hills and valleys while mules and camels were the beasts of burden. The country was largely agricultural and there were but few walled cities, his course taking him through scores of little villages.

In each of the first two days the Chinese cart made thirty miles and the third day twenty. Richardson drove into Fen Chow Fu about six o'clock on the third evening and received a very cordial welcome from the members of the American mission station. Fen Chow Fu proved to be a walled town of about fifty thousand people and the score or more missionaries were the only foreigners. They entertained Richardson in real American fashion. The members of this little far away colony were mostly graduates of Carlton College, Minnesota, where Richardson had taken his freshman and sophomore years before going to Dartmouth.

After ten days as a guest of his friends, Richardson returned to the railroad at Tai Yuan Fu by Chinese cart. Three more uncomfortable days over the eighty-mile course with the same experiences as the inward trip and he arrived at the railroad without mishap. He took the first train and the following day was in Hankow. In this city he spent a comfortable week at the native Y.M.C.A.

It was at this time that one of the dreadful Chinese famines was ravaging the country a few miles distant from Hankow and thousands of people were dying of starvation. Large numbers of these homeless, naked and wretched creatures flocked to the city and roamed its narrow streets as beggars. They hardly had the strength to walk and they presented a sad sight with their fleshless bones, visible ribs and sunken faces. Real poverty was more in evidence in this section than in any part of the world we visited. Human beings were huddled in tiny huts built of rusty Standard Oil cans and located in a swamp. A whole family of six or eight would crawl in on their hands and knees to get a night's shelter from the cold and rain. During the day they would beg or attempt to sell some worthless trinkets or pieces of junk. I have seen a stock of goods spread out on the sidewalk which contained nothing but what would be consigned to the ash barrel in an American community. Rusty nails, pieces of glass, old newspapers, rags and wornout soles of shoes were on display. In some unaccountable way the vendor frequently found a purchaser.

It was in this poverty-stricken district that Richardson played the rôle of philanthropist. He bought an American dollar's worth of cash—small Chinese coins with a square hole in the centre which are sold on long strings. As soon as he began giving these away a hundred or more of these poor unfortunates gathered about him and piteously begged for some of the money. Starved creatures—ragged women, half-clad and shivering children, blind boys, men on all fours, paralytics and lepers—thronged about him and pleaded for some of his charity. He divided the money equally among the multitude, counting out the coins as he gave them away. He found that for his American dollar he had received twenty-seven hundred pieces of cash.

Richardson was the guest of some friends who were on the faculty of Boone's College in Wu Chang on the opposite bank of the Yangtsze River from Hankow. This school is under the auspices of the American Episcopal Church Mission and is one of the leading institutions of learning in the Empire. Here he spent several days in luxury, sleeping in a warm and comfortable room and enjoying American meals.

Riding below the water line on an oriental steamer with Chinese coolies as fellow passengers is the antithesis of the comfort of an American Mission school. This was the sort of transportation Richardson enjoyed down the Yangtsze to Shanghai. Three days in the midst of unsanitary surroundings and curious and simple coolies were enough to make the ordinary American quit the trip and buy a first-class ticket home. Richardson was not that kind. He was anything but a quitter and although he enjoyed a good bed, clean food and intelligent companions as well as any one I ever knew, he could stand hardship and discomfort without a murmur. He often appeared to like them. In the face of the most discouraging environment he would simply smile and play the part of a philosopher.