Congo life and folklore

by John H. Weeks

The table being already laid, the boys quickly brought from the kitchen some soup, sweet potatoes, native greens, a tin of fish, one boiled fowl, a piece of boiled pork, a sucking pig roasted whole, a rice pudding and some stewed native fruit. A native likes to know what he is expected to eat, and the King could not have read a menu if there had been one. A smile of complacent anticipation covered the King’s broad face as his eyes and nose were greeted by the appearance of the roasted sucking pig.

All being ready, the white man invited the King to take his seat at the table. The old man waddled over to the chair, and when he had seated himself, his five favourite wives took up a position on the ground round the back of his chair, while the head men arranged themselves along the wall. The white man took his seat opposite the King, and having said Grace, helped his majesty to soup.

The old man took a few spoonfuls and handed the rest down to his wives, who, with suppressed giggling, finished it. Fish followed, and what the King did not eat he passed on to his wives.

The white man said: “In England when boys and girls are going to a feast they eat very little during the day, so as to do full justice to the feast provided for them.”

“Is that so?” replied the King. “I did not know that was your custom, for,” he laughingly continued, “I have eaten nothing all day in order to have plenty of room for your dinner.” And the old man chuckled because he was ’cuter than the white boys, for he had eaten nothing.

A plate piled with boiled pork, fowl and vegetables was next handed to the visitor. He worked his way through about half of it, and passed down the remainder to his waiting wives, who finished it with gusto.

Then came that roasted sucking pig. Generous slices of it were laid on a plate--no, he did not want vegetables. The meat soon disappeared, and there was nothing but a bone or two this time to hand down to the women.

The white man, sympathizing with their disappointment, asked the King to have some more. Another large portion was placed upon his plate--yes, he would have some vegetables this time. The meat vanished again--it was quite true, the King had eaten nothing surely for a Congo week. The plate was loaded a third time with the tasty pork, and the King was at last beaten, for with a sigh he handed more than half a plateful down to his expectant wives, among whom it was quickly shared and eaten.

“Would the King have some rice pudding and stewed guavas?” was the next question. A look of reproach passed across his majesty’s face, as much as to say: “Why do you have such common things on such an important occasion?” But he was too courteous to give expression to his thoughts, and asked for “a little, very little.”

One of the wives, however, lifted her head and formed her mouth into the word “Plenty,” and plenty it was that found its way to the King’s plate. He toyed with it a few moments, and his wives cleared the remainder.