But, in such lands as Japan and China, the Fan is an absolute necessity of existence. Men, women, and children alike carry their Fan, and almost perpetually use it. I remember, when the troupe of Japanese acrobats were in England, that one of them exhibited the national use of the Fan in an excessively ludicrous manner.
One of his comrades ascended to the roof of a lofty building, hung by his legs to one of the rafters, and held in his hands a bamboo pole which was twenty feet long. Another Japanese also ascended, climbed over his comrade, and settled on the bamboo pole, to which he clung only by the clasp of his bare feet. Suddenly he slipped down the pole, stopped himself when within a few inches of the end, squatted there with perfect unconcern, though at least forty feet from the ground, took his fan from the back of his neck, and fanned himself while gravely surveying the startled audience.
Perhaps some of my readers may remember Chang, the Chinese giant, who, by the way, in private life was a polished gentleman. He was never without his fan, always keeping it fluttering gently with an ease only to be acquired by a lifelong practice, and I really think that if he had been deprived of it he would have been seriously ill. How he slept without it is a wonder, for in his own house the fan was incessantly in motion, and was worked with apparent unconsciousness on his part.
I have often wished that in our country the ladies would manage their fans in the same quiet way when they are in a church or a concert-room, for the perpetual rattle of the joints is enough to distract any preacher or conductor, and very often does so.
As to the shape of the Fan, it varies greatly according to the country, but it may almost invariably be traced to some familiar object.
There is, for example, the common Japanese Fan or Screen, which is avowedly made on the model of the Palm-leaf, the ribs of the leaf being represented by split portions of a bamboo stem. The right-hand figure in the preceding illustration is taken from one of the common sixpenny Japanese fans that may be seen in many shop-windows.
There are exactly sixty ribs in the fan, all produced by splitting the bamboo into strips, kept in their place by a slight rod of the same material, and covered with two pieces of thin printed paper. Seeing that the original cost cannot be more than a penny, it is wonderful how such articles can be produced, and give a living to the makers.
The reader will observe that the shape of the Japanese Fan is almost exactly that of the Palm-leaf, with the exception of the jagged edges, and a better pattern could not be found. Then there are many Indian Fans framed on the same model, but which revolve on their handles, and are swung slowly round and round by the servants before the guests, and thus become miniature punkahs.
Here, again, we may find a parallel in Nature. The common hive bee ventilates its dwelling by using its wings in lieu of fans. When the hive is really in want of fresh air, the bees set to work, and wave their wings backwards and forwards for a considerable time, so that they necessarily expel the foul air from the interior of the hive, and create a partial vacuum, which can only be filled by fresh air from without.