He had also a letter from the British Ambassador in Washington to Sir Thomas Armitage, the Chief Justice of the Colony, upon whose verandah he was now seated, with his legs sprawled out in front of him, a Manila cheroot in the corner of his mouth and a whisky-and-soda at his elbow. Hennessy K. Waldron believed in "tripping around" in comfort.
"Judge," said he, "I've scheduled Hong-Kong for a six weeks' stay. Calculate I can do South China in that time?"
Sir Thomas smiled and shook his head.
"Mr Waldron," he replied, "you can't 'do' South China in six years, and you'll know precious little about it even at the end of sixty."
"Waal, I guess I'm not slow in the uptake. I can run my eye over the Tower of London, the Matterhorn, or the Louvre, in less time than a New York elevator would take to conduct you to the thirteenth story of the Flat Iron Building. And, sir, I'm speaking of things I know. Guess I've got face value out of every dollar's worth of shoe leather I ever purchased, or I never knew the difference between glue and honey."
"That may very well be," said the judge, "but there is so much about China to learn, so much that is confusing, and even contradictory, that I must confess, even after thirty years in the country, I know very little about it."
"Reckon," observed Mr Waldron, "the lingo would twist the tongue of a rattlesnake. I'm not referring to that."
"Whilst you are in China," asked Sir Thomas, "what is it, Mr Waldron, you most desire to see?"
For some moments Mr Hennessy K. Waldron appeared to be deep in thought. It was as if he considered the question worthy of earnest consideration.
"Temples," said he, at last. "Judge, I'm just crazy on temples."