"I have come to change."
We went to his room, and he at once proceeded to open the cupboards wherein he kept the canes. There were, indeed, a lot of them and of many kinds, and he exhibited them with a pleasure and pride that filled me with even more astonishment than their number and variety.
"You see this palasan; it has forty-two knots. It had forty-three, but it was necessary to take off one, because it was too long. Look at this other one, this violet stick." He stroked it. "Feel it. This one is of tortoise-shell. It is the real thing—a white one. It was brought to me by the captain of one of my brother-in-law's steamers."
The door of the room was half-opened and a little red head appeared.
"Papa, mamma let us come to give you a kiss."
"Run away; we are busy now," replied the father solemnly, dismissing the child with a gesture. But I had gone to the door, and I kissed with pleasure that little red head. He was a bright child of six or seven years. Behind him came another smaller one, red-headed too, and leading by the hand a girl of three or four years, dark, with great black eyes and curling black hair. I have never seen more lovely little creatures. I caressed them all warmly, and especially the little girl, whose velvety eyes were marvellous. But they were all timid, and without paying attention to my questions, looked doubtfully at their father. His face showed sternness and annoyance. He seemed offended that I found his collection of children more notable than his canes. He kissed them as if in compromise, and when his wife came running to find them, he said to her sharply:
"Why did you let them come in here while I was busy?"
"They got away while I was getting out a shirt for you," she answered humbly.
And pushing the chicks before her, she drove them from the room. After this I felt hopeful that her husband would terminate his exhibition of canes. He finished at last, and I, knowing that I flattered him, uttered a thousand exaggerations about his collection, which profoundly delighted him. He then took the liberty of dressing before me. His wife began to wait upon him like the most efficient and servile of valets. She put on his shirt; she put on his cravat; she got down upon the floor to fasten the buttons of his shoes. This happy husband let himself be dressed and polished off with a restrained gravity, meantime prattling about his canes and pipes, these collections being, it appeared, the aim and end of his existence. From time to time he reproved his meek spouse.
"Don't fasten it so tight! Less dressing and more rubbing on these shoes! Tell the maid that I wish her to take care not to daub my shoes. I don't care for that cravat; bring me a scarf that will tie!"