When you make tea in the forest, the smoke drives the storks away.”
The harvest time varies according to the district. In some parts the harvest is picked before the rainy season. In others, it is begun at the sound of the first clap of thunder; in other parts, the first cry of the cuckoo is the signal for the pickers to begin their work. All sorts of stories are told about our tea, amongst others, that the tea we export has already been used and dried again. That is a mere fable. The tea we export is of average quality, and is so abundantly to be had that there is no necessity for us to take recourse to the disgusting expedients suggested. I may add that the export trade is almost entirely in the hands of European business houses. Besides, all our old tea-leaves are used in China as sea-weed is used in France for stuffing mattresses, cushions, and so on. Thus tea, after having fortified our bodies during the day, affords us a bed at night.
CHAPTER XXVII
CHOPSTICKS
Although our chopsticks may have some resemblance to magic wands, the purpose they fulfil is a much more prosaic one, and, at the same time, a much more useful one. They are the auxiliaries which help us to convey to our mouths the food which we need for our bodies, the coal required by the human machine. It is generally thought in Europe that we use two chopsticks—one in each hand—for taking up the morsels of food, and for conveying these to our mouths. That is a mistake: our knife and fork exercise is much less complicated. The chopsticks are held in the right hand. Maintained by the thumb and the ring-finger, they are worked by the index and the middle finger. One remains motionless, the other manœuvres and catches up the fragments of meat, and even the smallest particles of rice. When rice is eaten, the bowl containing it is brought very close to the mouth. The chopsticks work with feverish activity, for rice is our daily bread, and we can admit of no slip between the cup that contains it and our lips. It may be thought that the use of the chopsticks demands very great skill, but that is only the prejudice of those accustomed to the use of the fork. A child can learn how to use the chopsticks as easily as the utensils in use in Europe. It may be mentioned that we also make use of forks for roast meats, and of spoons for taking up liquids. The Book of Rites, which deals with all the acts of life, mentions that chopsticks are to be used for all purposes except for drinking soup. The use of the spoon was thus consecrated many centuries ago. The chopsticks are not plain, shapeless pieces of wood. They are made of bamboo, or of more precious woods, and also of ivory and silver. The top part, which is from eight to ten inches long, by from four to six broad, is square, the remaining part being round. On one of the sides of the square top part, poems and pictures are engraved. Under the reign of the Han family, the Emperor was dining one day at a political banquet with his ministers, when one of them—Tcheng-Liang by name—rose to his feet and said: “Your majesty’s cause is lost. I have just consulted my chopsticks.” And as it turned out, the Emperor’s plan of conquest failed. Even to-day the cleverness of this statesman, who knew how to disguise his own opinion in the form of a revelation by his chopsticks, and to pass off his own advice as the result of a Divine inspiration, is much admired.
Some centuries later, the famous dictator, Tchao-Tsao, was dining with a rival of his, who tried to hide his ambition under the most modest appearance. Tchao-Tsao was anxious to publicly expose the designs of his rival, whom he had seen through, and began to talk of the bravest men of the day. Each mentioned certain names, and finally Tchao-Tsao said, “We two alone are really courageous men.” Hearing himself thus directly named, Liou-Pei, as the rival was called, dropped his chopsticks just as a clap of thunder was heard rolling through the sky. He tried to hide his emotion, and said, “Ah! how great is the power of heaven, I really was frightened.” But he was unable to divert the suspicion to which his terror had given rise.