The carriages of a funeral procession rolled along the maloo of modernized Shanghai. The mourners in the first carriage played cards and laughed. Every one else in the procession joked and smiled. I asked my Chinese humorist to explain the astonishing incongruity and he replied: “Why shouldn’t everybody be happy when everybody is deeply satisfied? Hop Long’s enemies believe that he has descended below to get at last the many punishments that are coming to him, and Hop Long’s friends just as confidently believe that he has ascended on high to receive his richly merited rewards; therefore, you see, all are joyful.”
The landlord made an agreement with the tenant that when the rice was harvested, he should receive one-third. Harvest was long past in its pale and sickle moon, and the landlord, receiving nothing, accosted the tenant: “Look here, thou Choi, didn’t we make an agreement that I should receive one-third of that rice?” Choi, nothing daunted, replied: “Yes, Laoye, but there was no third; there were only two baskets of rice and they are both mine.”
Two Chinese youths were discussing their ambitions. One said: “When I grow up I want to belong to a theatrical company.” His brother replied: “Humph, not I. I want the theatrical company to belong to me.”
The Chinese do not raise milch cows or goats. The following aged milk joke accordingly has been trotted out before every mess table of Treaty Port China, and been made to blush as a novice for the entertainment of every griffin. It seems that the new China hands insisted on having fresh milk in their tea. For the sake of peace the Number One boy at last procured it. The new hands said: “Of course it’s not like the June grass milk at home, but it will do in a pinch.” The Number One boy smiled blandly. At last the milk ceased and the new hands demanded an explanation, which the Number One boy gave as follows: “No molo milkee; that piecee olo pig have now got litter of lil pigs; that piecee bucket whitewash now makee finish.”
III
INDUSTRIAL AND COMMERCIAL CHINA.
The eastern states of America and Great Britain have a new slogan: “Get ready for the Panama Canal.” The western states of America, and indeed all America, should have another slogan: “Get ready for the China trade.” It is not far off; it is already on the horizon, “arising a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand”. It may come with a rush any year and thousands of companies will have their headquarters at New York. There are many things to arrange, internally and externally, in currency, in a tariff of twelve per cent. instead of five per cent., in provincial, inter-provincial and international politics, in loans and finances, in education, in nationalization of trunk railways, in harbor, canal and river conservancy, in reforestation, in patent, copyright and mining laws, in commercial law, in army matters, in a revenue navy, in police, in municipal organization, in hygiene, in paternalization as far as famine, flood and seed grain are concerned, in collection of taxes, in civil service, etc., but none of these difficulties is insuperable. Then comes the great trade.
On my travels and life of three years in China, I have listened, and I have glanced about for signs of the new times; and I shall relate just a few of the indications of progress, indications as different from the old manifestations as day is from night. Three years ago, yes, one year ago, few thought that these things were possible. Twenty recent books and five thousand newspaper articles prophesied that they were not possible. Thirty recent authors and ten thousand newspaper writers were Laodicean in attitude. Alas, ye Manchuized scribes! A few books, a few articles, many missionaries, and the October, 1911, revolution said they were possible, and the fall of Nanking proved it.
Copyright, 1913, The Bobbs-Merrill Company.