The journey went on without incident. I didn’t dare to have Fiam come out during the day, as I was never alone. But at night he took a walk on my shoulders, and we held whispered conversations.
On board the steamer on our way to China we had more liberty, and often conferred together. After our work was put away in an envelope, Fiammiferino began looking for a postage stamp in the depths of the portfolio. He went in and traveled all about the leather, explored the little pockets, and came out with amazing dexterity. He had a passion for putting on postage stamps after I had wet them. He walked over them, carefully pressing the edges flat with his feet to be sure they would stick fast to the envelope; when he had finished this operation, which he did as carefully as an upholsterer laying a carpet, he always danced a ballet to express his satisfaction in his completed work.
Fiammiferino Has a Bath
CHAPTER X FIAMMIFERINO HAS A BATH
One evening—it was the night before we were to land—the officers with us were polishing their swords, trying to make them like mirrors. In order to enjoy themselves while they worked they had had saki brought, and invited me to drink with them. As they drank they sang. Then they put their swords in their scabbards and went to sleep. I was about to follow their example when I felt Fiam moving.
He had come out of his box, and was walking energetically about on my chest. I unbuttoned a button on my waistcoat and called to him: “Fiam!” I forgot to tell you that sometimes he didn’t like this nickname that I had adopted. He felt as if he had lost half his name, and would show his disapproval by completing the word.