“Moral: Don’t try to peep into mandarins’ gateways, Blacksmith,” continued Barkins.
“Bosh! it’s all gammon. I should like to see one of them try to cut my head off.”
“I shouldn’t,” I cried, laughing; “and he wouldn’t.”
“No,” said Ching perfectly seriously. “Velly bad have head chop off. Head velly useful.”
“Very,” said Barkins mockingly. “Well done, Chinese Wisdom. I say, Herrick, why is a mandarin like the Grand Panjandrum?”
“Because he plays at the game of catch, catch, can and can’t catch the man who cuts off the English fellow’s head,” said Smith.
“Wrong!” cried Barkins. “Now you, Poet.”
“Because he’s got a little round button on the top.”
“Good boy, go up one,” cried Barkins.
“Hallo! what place is this?”