“Esteemed sir, if you are exhausting yourself with fatigue let Japanese Boy have your job. My cousin is ambitious for such a situation.”
“Beat it!” response Hon. Strunsky.
I could not assimulate that word he said it.
“What should he beat?” was question for me.
“You beat yourself around block—skiddoo!” explained honourable Delegate gentleman.
When he was explaining these things in war-cry voice so all could understand Mr. Carbonetti, an American gentleman, struck me on the wrist with a small piece of House which was not then built. I spoke “Banzai!” and Mr. I. Rogo, proprietor of the Rising Sun Coffee House, came with leaps and make jiu jitsu upon Mr. Carbonetti while O. Takura, my cousin’s grandfather, stopped Mr. Strunsky’s speeches with some kindling-wood. Soon there was rain of brick-bats from sky and Japanese Boys present much regretted they did not wear any umbrella.
That is some ways it happened.
Was it then wise for the Delegate who Walks for the Unions to say so? For was he not often remarking there was no place for Japanese gentleman in the American business? He does not know the statistick like the Japanese statesman may tell him. What does Ichipanorama, Walt Whitman of Fuji, say so?
The Visible Universe was never so full of men, Monkeys, Furniture, Noise, Literature, Diseases,
That there was not a Place somewhere, either in the hall bedroom, or in the kitchen, or in the cellar under the kitchen,