Chapter I: ANAZUMA—Japanese shave-proprietor (2)

I at last become acquaintance of Hon. J. Fortesque Smith, Negro-coloured gentleman who does mop-work at saloon of Hon. Strunsky who runs it. If all Negroes is like this Smith it must be a talented race. So filled of expression is his performances on Edison phonograph! With such raring pathos do he execute that famous negro melody, “Cheerful Widow Waltz” from them rubber disks! By hour I admire harmonious noise of Hon. Smith and that talented machine—then pretty soonly came around Hon. Strunsky with angry Irish voice to command more purchase of beer or get-out.

At last, Mr. Editor, I go around to grand opera of Williams & Walker, and there continue study of Negro Problemb. I was very intelligent about this until Hon. Johnson collapsed into raggle-time sing-songing entitled “Sus-a-OO, Lu-Lu, I-a want-a you too!” Suddenly I discover my feets performing jiu jitsu with therselves under seat. I rebuke them quietly, but they continue to misbehave until, at finally, they strike dark clergyman in ankle-bone and I am retired from that opera house after considerable race-riot.

O surely, it is wrong for that Africa to teach them diseases to Europe & Asia! And yet that raggle-time coon-singing is a species of chorus which shoots a long distance into my soul. I am very earnest about this dark-coloured harmony which comes with such splandid spasms through the shoes expressing comic emotions as it does so. Could you send me name and address of some talented Hon. Coon who would furnish tune, rimes, jokes, etc., for following poetical thought? For this he will receive ½ of what he gets.

_COMIC THOUGHT SUITABLE FOR COON SONG OR SOME OTHER HYMN_

On America Maru
And on Nippon Maru
(Similar vapour-boats determined to go to Nagasaki
And back again to here)
Many Japanese is discovered
With top-up eye
And high-brow expression.
“Where are you going, Japanese persons?”
Enquire sea-rooster perching on coop-deck,
“Where are you going with purse-sack
So full of nickels & dimes?
With Sunday go-meeting clothes on
And such satisfied neckties?”
“Oh!”
Respond Japanese in unison
And make giggly mirth.
“Ask us to know!”
They are smiling through ears with Sherlock Holmes expression.

Hark it!
What was that whistling motion of noise?
Was it sea-wind of Pacific?
Was it typhoon of nature?
Or was it Japanese practising together
Tunes from “Mikado”
Of Hons. Gilbert & Sullivan?

Teeth and nose of these ship,
Nippon Maru and America Maru,
Is pointed to Westward.
Japan is still somewhere in that direction
And numerous Japanese is on board this transportation.
Why
Is such quantities of them
On the passenger-table?
Has Japanese immigration
Gone burst
In California?
Has Rev. Mr. Emperor of Japan
Called Reserves back
For some more handsome defeat of Russia?
Or what?
(Expression of kittenish foxes is indulged in
By all Japanese Boys on this ship.)

“Hon. Nippon Maru
And Hon. America Maru,”
Wirelessly telegraf Hon. Uncle Sam from shore,
“Where are you going
Away from here
With such heavy ballast of Japanese?”
“Respectable Uncle,”
Reply them ships,
“We are taking all Japanese
Off of California.
They will go Japan,
They will go Satsuma,
They will settle themselves on Corea
And less disgusting parts of China.”

Pretty soonly
All will be depart from California.
Then who
To general housework, table-wait, manufacture salomon in cannery,
fruit-pick, employment bureau and other useful exersises for good
of populus?
Pretty soonly all America will calamity together,
“Where is them dear Japanese
Went to?”
And Dai Nippon with far-gone wheeze will distant reply,
“Away from here;
Away from brick-bat
And other educational features.
Japanese has came to America
To learn things.
They has learned them and went.”

On Nippon Maru
And America Maru
(Similar vapour-boats determined to go to Nagasaki
And back again to here),
These imaginery things I speak-so
Perhapsly occur—
Perhapsly not.

In a soon letter of the future I wish to tell you how about one new party of politicks which the Japanese Thinking Society (of which I am a membership) is preparing to begin. This new Party of Politicks, I am hopeful to believe, is more better than Republican and Democratic parties of present. Anyhow, it is not any worser.

All well here with exception of J. Furo who is dead.

Hoping you are the same,

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

S. P.—Tell me to know this: Of what State is Hon. Leslie M. Shaw the favourite son of? H. T.

VII

HON. SIMPLE LIFE AMONG AMBASSADORS

SAN FRANCISCO, February 10th,

_To Editor New York Newspaper which tells all Truth for
second-class postage._

DEAR MR.—I ask to know. Would it be a possibility for one bright Japanese Boy to get a good salary position of Ambassador to Berlin or some other seaport? My cousin Nogi tell me that Dr. Dave Hill do not care for such a job because wages is too tiny.

“How much is them wages?” I inquire for nervous feeling.

“Sum of $17,500 of annual pay,” mortify this Nogi.

“Japanese Boy would accept this patiently,” I collapse with voice.

“He might got it, but could he?” dictate Nogi, who understands horse-racing & problembs.

I am beswitched.

“You would appear a very cheap diplomat with such a salary,” say Nogi. “Hon. Charleymain Tower, Ambassador from O-hio, spend more annual cash than this for champagne which is necessary in Berlin for kings, dukes, princes, etc., which is accustomed to expect it from American Ambassadors when going through that town. That Hon. Tower are a great spend.”

“Poverty are no disgrace,” I signify with W. J. Bryan expression.

“For Methodist Ministers it are no disgrace,” say Nogi. “But for Foreign Ministers it are considered a crime.”

“I am confused by this,” I depress.

“Imagine that you was Hon. American Ambassador to Berlin,” deploy Nogi.

I do so with ease.

“And imagine I was Hon. Emperor of Germany.”

I do so with difficulty.

“You go to them Germany with $17,500 annual wages which you draw in advance. You look around street for some nice palace where U. S. flag can be represented with dignity. You find such a palace, pretty soonly, over general feed store for rent-sum of $20 per monthly. For sum of $5 you can hire Mrs. Nusbaum in up-floor flat to take down clothes-line so that Hon. U. S. flag can be flew on Monday afternoon. Then you spend $17,000 for champagne and set down on back porch where flies are scarce.”

“Do something happen pretty suddenly?” I ask to know.

“Quite promptly I come along in one golden-coloured automobile, accompanied by Signal Corps, Fire Department, Royal Mounted Mustache Guard, and Second Artillery Band——”

“Who are you, please?” is next question for Japanese Schoolboy.

“I am Hon. Emperor of Germany calling to make a diplomatick relationship with Hon. American Ambassador. I call in them quiet way I mention because I know that Hon. Poverty of American Ambassador would get embarrassed by kingly pompus. I stop royal automobile in front of Nusbaum’s Feed Store.

“‘Are Hon. American Ambassador at home for diplomatick relationship?’ Hon. Emperor holler-up to second story.

“‘He are out back splitting kindling,’ decry Hon. Mrs. Nusbaum. ‘But I will told him that Your Majesty have arrive—wait, please!’

“So she run & whistle down speaking-tube:

“‘Hello! Come up if convenient, Mr. Ambassador. Hon. Emperor are here to see you.’

“So Hon. American Ambassador, with arms full of kindling wood, make sneakstep to kitchen, where he wash hands in sink, then haste to parlour. There he find Hon. Emperor of Germany setting on sofa and looking cross because he have stumbled over baby-buggy in the hall.

“‘Good morning, Mr. Emperor,’ say Hon. Ambassador. ‘Will you have something to drink?’

“‘No,’ say he. ‘But I will take a cigar.’

“‘I have not got no cigars, Hon. Majesty,’ he say. ‘But I have some delicious chew-tobacco of considerable long cut.’

“Hon. Emperor of Germany, who are a awful polite king, eat some of that tobacco and make faces of enjoyment. Soonly he accept drink of champagne what Mrs. Nusbaum give him in tin cup; then he prepare to take his depart with willing smiles.

“‘Mr. Ambassador,’ he decry, ‘what kind of Embassy do you call this what you got here?’

“‘This,’ say Hon. Ambassador, ‘are what are called “Jeffersonian Simplicity.”’

“‘Are you fond of this kind of simplicity?’ Hon. Emperor inquire to know.

“‘No,’ say-he, ‘but Hon. Jefferson was.’

“‘Hon. Jefferson should try being an Ambassador to Germany if he like it so well,’ say Hon. Emperor, giving royal automobile one complete honk.”

* * * * *

Mr. Editor, question before Congress is this: Can American Republick, at stingy expense, teach Kings, Princes, etc., to expect less spendthrifty display whenever they goes to see American Ambassadors? Maybe so it are possible. Maybe Emperors, when they gets tired of ruling, will become accustomed to saying, “Let’s go over to Charley Tower’s flat and listen to Caruso on the phonograph.” Maybe-so it will soon become a common sight in Berlin to see the Hon. Emperor buying 15c package of Frankfurters for luncheon with Hon. American Ambassador. Maybe—but Japanese Schoolboy are doubtful because he come from a kingdom where habits of Emperors is often observed. And I never seen no kings acting that way.

Trouble with these U. S., Mr. Editor, is that they is not so awful Progressive like they imagines they are. It is a very nice thing to be noisy, but a shoot-cannon must have something besides powder in it to do considerable damage. America man work pretty swift when let alone; but if he wait for act of Congress he had more better wait for act of God and the Russian Douma. There are just one body of mans in the entire world slower than Hon. Russian Douma, and that are Hon. American Congress.

It take one of them degraded and outworn monarchies of the Old World eighteen months to stick together a first-class war-boat of very excellent trimmings. It take these swift U. S. six years to nail together such a fighter-ship, and after them six years is past American Congress awakes and finds that it doesn’t need no navy nohow.

Hon. Congressman Captain Richard Peachy Hobson arise recently for debate and do considerable gun-fire with eyes.

“By all them sun-kissed hills of native land,” he say with energy, “let us defend it. Japan are a menace. So are China, Sweden, and the Malay Archipelago. If all them dangerous nationalities combined to do us dirt how would they go at it? By fleets? In one week 17,000,000,000 yen would flow into coffers of very yellow peril. In two weeks 78 extreme _Dreadnothings_ would intend to go San Francisco for warfare. In three weeks Japan would be camping in Waldorf-Astoria and Sweden would accept Milwaukee as spoil of war. Therefore I arise up to propose it. I propose it that Hon. Sharp Williams instruct the Democratic minority to build 12 _Dreadnothing_ battleships weekly until election is over.”

(Loud groans from Jo-uncle Cannon.)

Uprise then Hon. Burton. “Mr. Speech,” he-say it, “I uprise to second them bill of Hon. Cap. Congressman Hobson; but with some slight amendments to make it look natural. I propose that them 12 _Dreadnothings_ be reduced to 1 gunboat to be built by Union Iron Works in 1926, in case there ain’t no war before then.”

“But how to defend Hon. America without no ships?” demand Hon. Hobson with voice.

“We are not afraid of all-world Powers,” declaim Hon. Burton. “If Japan, England, Ireland, and Spain come to our shores with latest pattern explosives, then the indomitable spirit of American people shall defend us!”

(Loud applause from Congress which continue ahead with campaign program.)

Such is fate of Hon. Hobson’s hobby. It is certain that Hon. Congress are not afraid of no foreign navy. Hon. Congress is not afraid of nothing when it do not cost them nothing to do so.

* * * * *

It are collapsible sentiment of all intelligent Japanese, Mr. Editor, that Hon. Congress will eventually, or later, build very magnificent Embassies (on model of Pennsylvania State Capitol) in Berlin, Paris, London, Tokyo, Pekin, and wherever it is required by kings and fashionable persons residing there. But before them buildings is done some Bills must be made, revised, torn up and referred to wastebasket in following committees:

1—Committee on Architecture.

2—Committee on Plumbing.

3—Committee on Window Curtains.

4—Committee on Foreign Relations.

5—Committee on Gas and Water.

By the time them bills is passed America will no longer be sneezed at as a Young Nation. And in the mean while Hon. Ambassadors from these U.S. must be subsidized by some Trust or else ride in trolley cars between Hon. Embassy and Hon. German Court.

Little Annie Anazuma, 8-year-age daughter of I. Anazuma, Japanese barber, make following Mother Geese about it:

“The Star Spangley Banner
O long may she soar
O’er the National Arms
On a grocery store!”

Arthur Kickahajama ask for enquiry yesterday time:

“Are this Dr. Dave Hill a diplomat?”

“To look like an Ambassador to Germany on a salary of $17,500 a year he have _got_ to be pretty much of a diplomat,” I answer for reply.

With gun-salutes to Hon. Hobson.

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

VIII

A THIRD TERM FOR OUR EMPEROR

SAN FRANCISCO, February 23rd.

_To postoffice of New York Newspaper to be found there by
Editor._

DEAR SIR: I will not vote for President this time, thank you, because your Emperor, Mr. Roosevelt, will not run to get it. Therefore I am neglectful about all other Candidates.

Little Annie Anazuma, eight-years-age, daughter of I. Anazuma, Japanese barber, come to me with childish inquisitive.

“Tell me one truth, Uncle Togo,” she deploy. “Is it possible to think that Japanese Boy will some day be President of this respectable kingdom?”

“Hardy so—and yet maybe,” I addict with deceptive expression.

“So happy to think!” negotiate this infant enthusiasm, with fond smiling. “Then how must he go to it to become such a President?”

“He must firstly obtain consent of Hon. Roosevelt, who probably would not give it,” I dictate because I am aware it might be so.

“Are it customary for Presidents to select with voice name of some gentleman what would be less disgusting to him for next King of America?” require this Infant Prodigal, who are too ingrown of brain for enjoy mere doll-play.

“Ah, sure yes!” I explode. “If gentleman what have been in White House 4 years do not know a good President when he see him, who would?”

“When inexperienced gentleman are called by White House to take job he must enjoy great agony trying to study Constitution, boat-building, Tuskagee, & other racing problembs necessary to encumbrance of office,” she say-it.

“That are still customary,” I report.

“Who commence to originate this merciful custom?” demand little Annie.

“Because you are childish I make education for you. Pres. Roosevelt done it.”

“So happy to know!” digest this Japanese child. “He is great Emperor of America—therefore he will last forever.”

“So sorry to reply,” I disgust. “Hon. Pres. Roosevelt will soon stop doing it.”

“Tell me to know, Uncle Togo,” examine this difficult infant. “Is not Emperors made to last considerable length?”

“In responsible kingdoms, yes-so—but in America, no-so. Here Kings is elected for 4 years to discouridge them.”

“These white-coloured foreigners is too hard answers for children to know,” say little Annie Anazuma running away for play-doll amusement.

I say these lectures to Little Annie with great pleasure to be telling something to somebody what believes it. But then come brain-thoughts which bring enjoyment of fierce pangs. What to do with America when Emperor Roosevelt has took himself from it? I enquire for answer.

I beg you to do it as request, Mr. Editor. Please have your printer put some words on editorial page asking Hon. Roosevelt to continue once more term as Emperor of this Republic. I enclose cash of 50c. to pay for your expense of writing, etc. Thank you so many!

* * * * *

Honest to truth, I am aggregated with anger to have Mr. Emperor Roosevelt dictate, “No thank you, not for three-times running!” Why so does he stop being King just at instant when all-national people is enjoying that American performance? It will be sad for my heart to see some private person occupying public career of Hon. Roosevelt when he gets through sitting on it.

What decry Julius Cæsar about being elected too much for Republican party of Rome? “One good term deserves another,” he command, and Mr. Brutus was pleased to be there with stabbing-knife. But this is different subject from what about it.

* * * * *

Now it is historical knowledge that Pres. Roosevelt is ignorant about fear. What does frighten him, then, about this Third Term business affair? Because Hon. Geo. Washington said not do it? So ridicule for great man to think! Hon. Roosevelt is not afraid of Hon. Washington. Then go ahead, Mr. Roosevelt, please! Continue terming for several more administrations.

Whenever I think of some private gentleman being public President of U. S. I spill tear-drop from sadness. Mere human person like Hon. Taft is large enough to entirely fill throne with himself but he can not fill it with that marvellous activity of Roosevelt.

* * * * *

Hon. Jenny Bryan, so I read by news-prints, has went out for duck-shoot and also hoping to slew some bears. This show how sadly he long for President. But nothing to do! Mr. Jenny is too quiet Democrat for election. He must murder something or make elopement with somebody’s grandmother to get photo in newspaper any more. Then American persons will remember he is alive and nominate him for another defeat.

In what administration was Hon. Bryan President of these Uniteds State? I ask these ignorant question because Hon. Bryan happened before I arrived here.

Time is passed, Mr. Editor, for American gentleman to be President by merely being so. Prince Albert cutaway and sky-scrape eye-brow with patriotic noise from stump are decomposed from modern politics, thank you. Successful candidate for America must not only stand on stump for speech—he must use stump for downside-up gymnasticks employing heels for passionate gestures. If candidate can not do nothing else he must be owner of Trust or some other respectable business.

Whenever I have look-at some American gentleman behaviour strange and queer in publick, then I enjoy suspicion, “That person is expecting for nomination to President!”

Because this. When gentleman require to be notice by Delegates of Convention he must perform something queer in publicity. Sometime he take too much cocktail, sometime too much buttermilk—drink depending on religious training. Then all newspapers go to his doorway and ask for photo, childhood and name of party by which he prefers to be runned. Pretty soonly this candidate is celebrated name in all mouths. After this he may be elected, which is too difficult to think about, thank you!

By last week I seen Yoni Sadekachi, wealthy and influential Japanese greenhouse, enjoying phenomenal cataclyptic spasm of fits on street corner. Large crowd was present including three American reporters. Next morning following headline in all American newspaper:

JAPANESE SPASM OF FITS!!!

HON. YONI SADEKACHI ENJOYS ONE AND
GAINS LARGE MERIT OF JAPANESE
VOTERS PRESENT.
WILL HE BE NOMINATION FOR PRESIDENT?
WE ASK TO KNOW

Pretty soonly news-children scream announcement all over this America. Political man see this and report. “Yes, please, this Hon. Yoni will make very happy candidate for Republican party with fusion of Japanese Socialists. It will be pleasant to mention him if everything else fails.”

This is to show, Mr. Editor, how dangerous it is to encourage talented Japanese in this kingdom.

One Japanese poem, please, for your printer to practise on:

_SILENCE OF NEXT ADMINISTRATION_

Last night I dream this when heliotrope of despair breathe to
lily-flower,
When moonlight is there
And crane-bird stand with bill under its elbow:
One Angel arrive to my bedstead.
“Good morning,” I report, “what is your name?”
“How do you do,” she say. “My name is Silence.”
“Hon. Silence,” I exclaim, “how did you get into this country?”
“I got in,” she exclaim, “when Hon. Roosevelt got out.”
“Is Hon. Roosevelt got out?” I support.
“O yes,” say Angel, “can not you hear the sound of Silence all over
land?
Silence in Congress, in Nursery, in Pulpit, in Wall Street?
Can not you hear it?
You are blind in ears if not!”
“O yes,” I retort, “I hear it, Mr. Angel;
But it is not Perfect Silence.”
“No, not Perfect Silence—
But it is silent enough to be noticed.
Almost Anything
Sounds like Silence
By comparison
Of Hon. Roosevelt.

“Therefore sweet sleep,
Pull down blinds,
Blow out gas—
Good night!”

So speak Angel when heliotrope of despair droop to lily-flower,
When moonlight is there
And crane-bird stand with bill under its elbow.

Therefore, Mr. Editor, I leave it to you. Silence is not best sweetest quality for energetic kingdom like this. Please fix Hon. Roosevelt to stay on chair for remainder of generation. For if he is removed panick of loneliness will assassinate Japanese Boy.

Hoping you will fix it by me,

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

S. P.—I have obtained legitimate job of table-waiting at Fujiyama Restaurant where my mail will get to. H. Sunigawa, Prop., is one very patriotic gentleman who works as Japanese Spy when not employed.

H. T.

IX

HON. MODESTY: IS IT A DISEASE?

SAN FRANCISCO, March 14th.

_To Editor New York Newspaper who is considerable careless
about answer to letters of poor Japanese Schoolboy, excuse him
for more of._

DEAR SIR—Sometime when Hon. Rudyard Kipling write, he begin each paragraf with nice piece of poem. Therefore I must do it like him. Excuse following:

_THE SONG OF OUCH_

In Tunk by the Tower of Tom
In the Land of the Living Joke
Lived a race of Sadds who were modest lads
And blushed when their names was spoke

They shrieked at the thought of Fame
And shaked like the infant pine,
While they turned all white when they seen the sight
Of an Advertising Sign.

So they lived in the fear of Boast
In the Age that Has Went Behind:
But if any of They still remain to-day
They is certainly Hard to find!

Hon. Mrs. Lusy Macdonald to whom I am now a greenhouse employed by her geraniums at 10c each to relieve them of what bugs they got is very nice-hearted. Her husband is a dead gentleman who took decease by asthma in joints. So she approached to me yesterday with customary tear-drop & 1 pair pants to say:

“These property of past Macdonald I am give to you because they wake bitter memories & are wore out around knees.” Slight sobs from her.

I observe them hon. pants which is very tall garments of dissipated appearance.

“O thank you so many, Hon. Mrs. Madam!” I report with salvo. “I shall took them home & rehearse wearing them.” I back off for respect and get away with them hon. pants.

At Patriots of Japan Boarding & Lodging, where I hope to move from before payment is necessary, I lock myself away with them garment, and try to make it fit. So sorry can’t do! When I clasp it with dignified safety-pin at waist each leg is too far beyond my foots—it give me reverent appearance of kneeling. I try to deceive them pants to look briefer by rolling them upwards. Also I coax them at stummick by fastening belt around shoulders. By this way I am entirely inside of that tailorship which is too plenty.

Then suddenly Cousin Nogi make in-come to my room, because he is a relative and can do so without knocking. He look quite gast at me.

“You are clothed entirely,” he signify with smart expression.

“Would they fit me perhaps?” I ask for vanity.

“Maybe so they might,” dictate Nogi, “but they are too loose around neck.”

“What to do with such gifts from lady?” I inquire for reply.

“To wear it next to heart,” contuse Nogi with smiling. “If you wear it on publick streetfare crowd will collect to indicate that you are one very famous Japanese. Persons will proclaim: ‘There go them Hon. Pants!’ Maybe you will be escort by police wherever went. It is so easy to become famous.”

“No can do, please!” I prefer.

“No to?” stagger Nogi for disappoint.

“Ah, no!” I relapse. “I should not desire to become famous for pants. Hon. Modesty is a Japanese characteristick.”

“Hon. Modesty is a disease,” corrode that Nogi with scornful snip; so he tell following myth of antique Japan which is a very favourite stories of Grandmothers to illustrate the Hon. Modesty.

* * * * *

In some way-back period of B. C. there reside at Kioto one Emperor by name of Motomatsu who was awful modest about it. When spoke of as Famous he became a very ill person. He was shy about publick banzai. When he depart out from Hon. Palace for auto-ride all loyal subjecks was lined up by pave to decry: “Banzai! Banzai! Such nice Emperor Motomatsu!” They then kneel upon their faces to signify it. But Hon. Motomatsu enjoy angry rage for such publick demonstrictions and decry: “So conspickerous!” while he kick loyal subjecks on skull. Because he was shy.

Pretty soonly he make sneek out of Palace by back door to avoid them noyful mob of shoutings. But one Grocery Boy seen him and observe to inquire: “Why do Kings go out by back doors when should not?” “Hush it!” say Motomatsu. “I am doing it so as not to be too famous.” So when he make pass-on them Grocery Boy go to all populus of Japan and decry: “Hon. Emperor is departing by back door!” Then 1,000,000 of them loyal subjecks assemblance to trademan entrance of Palace & peek to see—and sure of! Hon. Emperor again is saw making sneek-in to Palace. “Permit us to hail!” say peasantry, but Hon. Emperor relapse with peev: “Go hail somewheres else!” And he throw brick-bat to them.

So them Hon. Emperor get worse modest all time. Pretty soonly he borrow rag-clothing from beggerly man and wander forth in them disguise. But Hon. Populus, when they seen him, decry: “O look-see what has arrive! Our dear Emperor are ragged out to be a beggerly man! Is he not conspickerous in such a clothing? Ah, yes!” And they surround him with a program of dances, including exhibitions of jiu jitsu, resolutions of respeck, geisha waltz, speek, fireworks & baloon-races. Pretty soonly Carnegie Commission approach with brass medal of reward. “For what?” say Hon. Emperor. “For extreme shyness in action,” say Hon. Commission. By this Hon. Motomatsu is very disgust, so he cut off them Commission at neck, then he chop 1,000 loyal subjecks with ax and go back Palace.

But when them loyal subjecks pick up their heads what was chopped they say: “Sure is! Mr. Emperor must be modest about publick appearance. Quite well! Then we will cease hailing him, if he is so disagree.”

Next day when Hon. Emperor go off for walk, what! Such vacancy of street! He is queer to feel. He go back Palace with lonesome smile. “Maybe I am dress too silently to be seen,” he-say. So he put on uniform of Field Marshall & walk outside again. Nothing to do. Even little sparrow-birds is absent with banzais. “O mania! Have I quit being famous?” subtract that Motomatsu, losing some flesh for griefs. So by soon-time he make début to street in drum-major uniform recruited by very large brass band. But Hon. Publick is home reminding their own business. This are too much worry for Hon. Emperor who go bed & is attended by appendicitis. Pretty soonly he enjoy death and got a tomb near Kioto. In front of it are following inscription:

“Motomatsu have got his bones here.
He were a Good Advertiser;
But he Worked it too Hard.”

Mr. Editor, Hon. Modesty were a disease very common among Great Mens in antique Japan. In these here day modern insanitary methods of brushing off microbes have got rid of such shy germs pretty good. Yet Great Mens is still in some tiny danger of being bit by it. At White Palace of Washington Dr. Rickey must be in constant attendance with microscope to watch for it. Each President Message must be very careful fumigated—and on some days this are pretty much of a job, thank you.

By each morning-time Hon. President must have corner of eye-glasses, mustache & tooths examined for fearful that some Wyoming constituent might maybe brought in bashful germs that will get into Hon. Policies & spoil everything.

This Surgeon-Gen. Rickey must be a very worried person. Suppose he go cod-fishing some Sunday off & become carelus about them hon. microbes? Ah, fatal! Next morning he go to White Cabinet & discover Hon. President enjoying high temperature of terrible blushes.

“Sec. Loeb,” he are saying, “please turn to Nineteenth Interstate Proclamation, page 1102B, and attack it with blue pencil.”

“Quite good, Mr. Sire,” say them Hon. Loeb. “What to do with them words?”

“Scratch out all pronouns spelled with an ‘I’ and supply ‘American People’ for it,” say Hon. President.

“Will do,” say Hon. Sec. with nervous glance.

“Next substitute considerable changes. Change ‘My Policies’ to ‘Mr. Bryan’s Policies,’ change ‘My Navy’ to ‘Admiral Brownson’s Navy,’ change——”

Dr. Rickey stand at corner of room with horrors springing at knees. “It are my carelus fault—some scarce disease have got in through window!” he whisper to guilty self.

“Next turn attention to library of books,” say that Presidential Invalid. “Change ‘My Works’ to ‘Works of Divine Providence.’ Every time ‘Grizzly Bear’ are mention change it to ‘Grey Squirrel,’ change ‘Must Not’ to ‘Please Don’t,’ change——”

“Stop it, Mr. Sire!” say them Physician with alarms; “if you continue it thus you will have ‘Malefactors’ changed to ‘Benefactors’!”

So White House Hospital Corps are ringed for and Hon. President took by forceful quarantine to Federal Hospital where one porous plaster are put on his Ego to draw it out. While enjoying relapse there he occupy cot formerly layed in by Hons. Albert Beverage, Ben Tillman & other Egos enjoying the same shy germ.

* * * * *

What would become of Hon. Literature, Mr. Editor, if them Literaries was nibbled by Hon. Modesty? What would become of Publishing Business if Hon. Mrs. Eleanor McGlynty, after wroting one book of title, “Three Months,” should spend that period of time blushing over what ensue in it? What would happen to Hon. Jack of London or Hon. Thomas of Boston if they forgot to tell Hon. World how remarkably much they are? Would Hon. World remember their praises if _they_ didn’t? I ask to know.

What would ensue if Hon. Bernard Shaw should took the habit of shrinkage? Might he know how to stop before he had entirely shrunk away until he was very little more than size of Homer, Shakespeare & any other insignificate super-gentleman? I require no answer.

Mr. Editor, if I had died in old-fashion generation of water-power reputation I would have got on my tombstone:

Here Lies Togo,
He was a good man.

But as I live in age of gas-power greatness, I must have on my door-plate:

Here Lives Togo.
He is a great man.
If you don’t believe it,
Step in and he will
Tell you so.

With love to your printer,

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

X

SPRING

SAN FRANCISCO, April 1st.

_To Editor of New York newspaper which rains supreme for
intelligence of editorial tipewriting._

DEAR SIR O! Spring have came!

Where did it arrive from? is question for Japanese Boy.

Do it arrive from Palm Beach of sunny climb, song-sing of nightinglory-bird, hypnotism of tropick mooners where poets is whacking musical liars in the middle of such nice weather? Do it arrive from ore the sea blew along by Rory Bory Alice & other mythology ladies of awfully gauze dressing which travel by zephyr to drop don’t-forget-me bud & other garden seeds on top of happy farmer? Ah no! it do not.

Where _do_ this Spring arrive from then, if not?

By newspaper print I read how it arrive from Paris, thank you!

Flower of Spring do not come to America by them poetical way I said. They are first noticed in New York by Hon. Custom Inspector who give American eye-wink when he see such many trunks of French extraction. He notice they are label “Handle by Care,” so he open them carefully with an axe. From each divided trunk come explosion of rare beaty. Violet-colour roses, rose-colour violets, blue-colour carnations, off-colour daisies, lilies-of-valley in red, white, & blue and sunflowers of 27 delicious varieties of sunset. That sad interior of Custom House, so oftenly accustomed to shady gloom of dark & dingley Tariff, grow suddenly to joyful fire-alarm by them race-riot of colour. All employees of them Custom House forget murdering thought of their cruel hearts and is instantly gentle by sight of such bouquets. They forget to do their duty on sliding scale. Their eyes is overdone for tear drop with sweetheart thought of childhood. Numberous sighs is enjoyed while looking to them flowers, all hats is removed and for one noment of time that Custom House forget to think of Eternal Revenue on cigars, the patness of Jo-uncle Cannon and welcome to America by the Uncivil Service. Such is influence of Nature on savage persons.

Then come Easter and I am not responsible for what happen. Hon. Solomon, who was legally accustomed to 100 wifes, was very suspicious about Spring when it come along from Paris, so he say with voice for all future layers of Husbands, “Consider the lilies how they cost!” When one Christian lady begin to consider the lilies in shop window it is important for Christian Husband to consider something else with absent-minded expression.

* * * * *

In Spring young American mind naturally turn to sport of baseballing. Japanese Boy have found out how-do to get there to place where them National Sport is done. Walk some distance to suburbs of trolley when, all of a suddenly, you will notice a sound. It is a very congregational lynch-law sound of numberous voices doing it all at once. Silence punctuates this. Then more of.

“Why all this yall about, unless of mania?” I require to know from Hon. Police.

“San Francisco is in it and Oakland is outside of it,” say Hon. Police with moustache. “San Francisco have made bat-hit and three gentlemans have arrive home.”

“So happy to welcome travellers!” I decry. “Have them gentlemans been long absent for such publick banzai?”

“All over bean-farm,” say Hon. Police. “They was all on bags,” he say, “and two mans had died on first basso——”

“I shall enjoy mourning for them heroes,” I retort.

“—then Hon. Murphy acquire one base by high finance.”

“How-so he possess this base?” is next question for me.

“He steal it,” say Hon. Police with cigar.

I admire talents of that Hon. Murphy who can steal things while all publick make shout of applaud. With practice he would become very delicious Senator.

More loud yall of shouts is heard. I am an enthusiasm. What fierce harakiri of patriotism was going on to make them Americans so loud? Such sound of hates! Port Arthur was took with less noise than that. Therefore I must see about it.

I go to fence where ticket-hole demand 50c of price to see it.

“Why must Japanese Boy pay such price?” I renig.

“Because-so,” say Ticketer, “Baseballing is National Sport. Therefore each patriot must pay them 50c for Campaign Fund to Hon. Cortelyou.”

I admit myself to gate.

In seats around gallery all-American persons is settled in state of very hoarse condition. Downstairs on ground is 10 to 11 Baseballers engaged in doing so. I am scientifick about this Game which is finished by following rules:

One strong-arm gentleman called a Pitch is hired to throw. Another gentleman called a Stop is responsible for whatever that Hon. Pitch throw to him, so he protect himself from wounding by sofa-pillows which he wear on hands. Another gentleman called a Striker stand in front to that Stop and hold up club to fright off that Hon. Pitch from angry rage of throwing things. But it is useless. Hon. Pitch in hand hold one baseball of an unripe condition of hardness. He raise that arm lofty—then twist—O sudden! He shoot them bullet-ball straight to breast of Hon. Stop. Hon. Striker swing club for vain effort. It is a miss & them deathly ball shoot Hon. Stop in gloves. “Struck once!” decry Hon. Umperor, a person which is there to gossip about it in loud voice.

“Why do Hon. Umperor demand Hon. Striker to struck when he have already did so?” I demand to know from one large German intelligence what set next by me.

“He is fanning himself outside,” make that courteous foreigner for reply, so I prefer to understand.

Once more-time that Hon. Pitch prepare to enjoy some deathly agony. He hold that ball outside of twisted forearm, turn ½ beside himself, throw elbows away, give whirling salute of head, caress ankle with calf of leg, then up-air—quickly shoot! Ball journey to Hon. Stop with whizz, but before arriving there Hon. Striker see it with club. There is considerable knock-sound as club collide to ball which stops continuing in that direction and bounds uply to air. Great excitement for all America! All spectacles in grand-stand decry, “O make sliding, Hon. Sir!” and many voices is seriously spoiled as Hon. Striker run with rapid heels from each base to next & all other Baseballers present endeavour to pull down that ball which is still in very high sky. But soonly that ball return down and is bounded into hands of second basso sportsman who shoot it to Hon. Stop just as Hon. Striker is sliding to fourth base by the seat of his stummick.

“Out!” decry Hon. Umperor, so Hon. Striker go set himself on back bench, which is deserving place for all heroes.

So many Strikers is brought up to do them clubbing acts during game that it become a monotony to Japanese Boy in a very soon time. But not-so it was to Americans who was fuller of Indiana yalls. Occasionally that large German intelligence what set next to me would say with voice, “Kill that Umperor!”

“Why should Hon. Umperor be executed?” I require for answer.

“I am not sure why-is,” extort that German. “But it is courteous to demand his death occasionally.”

“Is this Umperor such a sinful citizen?” I make note; but that Hon. German did not response because he was drownding his voice from one bottle of pop-soda for value of 5c.

I wait for very large hour to see death of this Hon. Umperor, but it did not occur as I seen. Too bad! I had very good seat to see from.

Baseballing is healthy game for Americans. It permits them to enjoy sunstroke in middle of patriotick sounds, it teach them a entirely courageous vocabulary and put 10,000,000,000,000 peanuts in circulation by each annual year. Japan must learn to do it. If all Japanese wishing to become heroes should go set in bleachers each afternoon-time it might change them from Yellow Peril to yelling section in short generation.

But warfare is a more agreeable way.

Spring was discovered by Japanese several years before zero. Antique Japanese noblemans, when they seen sweet Irish-flowers blooming and acting fresh was suspicious that maybe it was sign of Spring, but they did not say-so nothing about it, because laws was very just in them date. Hon. Bashu, celebrated for Japanese poetry, say:

“O Spring, Spring,
Thou art such gentle thing!”

Hon. Japanese Emperor read this songsing and call Hon. Bashu to court-house and give him one chop-off by axe. “You are too original for to live,” he say by remark.

Hon. Onion Jo, Japanese ranch-boy of Contra Costa County, recently enjoy one railway accident. His 2 feetprints has been missing since then. So you will please forgive following Japanese sonnet he send me because he is a very weak patience in hospital:

_CONVERSATION TALKED BY ONION JO WITH ONE FOOLISH-BIRD ON SPRINGTIME TWIGS_

Told me in song-sing, tree-bird of April Foolish,
Why do America Fleet
Travel so low-down in water-tight Ocean?
Why-so
Is all symptoms of armour-belt missing
And why such cargo of weight?
“Twit! Twit!”
Response them animal in voice of Commander Sims,
“Them Pacific Fleet travel deep-down
For very good reason.
Admiral Reuterdahl is in command of it.”
After which remark them tree-bird make humoristick signals.

Told me in music, tree-bird of green ideas,
“Why do Hon. Forker of Ohio
Feel so just about Negro-race?
Are he Senator from Brownsville
That he is dutifully obliged
To make them hurt sounds
When chocolate citizenship is insult?”
“Tut! Tut!”
Abjurgate them thoughtless Fowl,
“Hon. Forker have very scholarly brain-thoughts;
He remind himself of poetry by Mother Geese,
‘Bah, bah, Black Vote,
Have you any pull?’
Hon. Forker is such Dark Horse now
That he enjoy complete eclipse, thank you.”
And them peculiar Chicken make knocking noise with bill.

Told me in harmony, raving Tom-sparrow,
Why did all patriotic persons
Make such elaborate hand-clasp
With red automobile
And other National emblems
When Hon. Eugene Schmitz
Broke jail?
What did he done in jail
To give him such cleanly reputation
In them few months?
“Cluck! Cluck!”
Modulate them demented species of Duck,
“It is surprisingly useless to deposit Hon. Grafters in jail.
Because for reason:
If a person is a great enough Grafter
To go jail,
Then he must be great enough Grafter
To get out.
San Francisco is excited about Local Talent.”
Thus saying it, them April Foolish Bird
Make a noise like Emma Goldman
And flatter away
In direction of Boise City, Idaho.

Hoping you are sufficiently discouraged,

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

S. P.—From daily print I see it how one tame sculptor of Utah have cut out one famous statue called “Monument to Gulls.” This to be stood up in Salt Lake City. Would not such a monument look more sentimental in Wall Street? I require no answer.

H. T.

XI

EDUCATION IN AMERICAN LANGUAGE

SAN FRANCISCO, April 10th.

_To Fashionable Creator of Newspaper Talk._

DEAR MR.—When first time your printer put-in my letter I am so happy I feel very discouraged to write more. “Banzai! I shall make literary career of myself!” This shout from me. Literary writing must be good job for all Americans not fit for honest work. I am understood to be told that Hon. Jack London receive for price from 15c to 20c for each word he make. This is so very easy way it appear deceptive. How should I prosper in such a Graft! At 20c for each word how happy for Japanese Boy! By early morning I should go to fashionable American restaurant and require of Waiter, “Hon. Sir., deliver to me 1 plate ham & 2 eggs, please!” This would be the number of 12 words @ 20c per word—therefore bringing me the price $2.40! Breakfast might cost 75c, Waiter might require 25c to tip himself, yet Waiter must still owe Japanese Boy $1.40, which is balance of $2.40 for them 12 words I said.

Immediately I became great Author in my brain-thoughts. I make running stampede to publick Library and read “12th Night,” by Shakespeare of England and “Friday the 13th” by Lawson of Boston, so as to learn both ends of the American language. I learn considerable extinct vocabulary from both of these gentlemen, then I set down with ink-stand to write 1 letter to you.

It is not equal to human justice, Mr. Editor, that you send me $4.34 in postage stamps as reply payment to this. What to do with these stamps? 217 2c postages require considerable correspondence to get away from. To waste these postages I have wrote following correspondence:

1. To New York Newspaper already 10 letters which you know of.

2. To Uncle Hashimura of Kobe, 6 letters of painful truth.

3. To Miss Alice Furioki, pleasant lady of yellow extraction,
13 letters on sweetheart subjects.

4. To Pres. Roosevelt, King Edward, F. Augustus Heintz & Eugene
Schmitz 48 total letters.

These make all together 77 stamps used up. Therefore I have got remaining in my pocket 140 stamps, many of which is ruined by wear. In next payment for my literary letters would you be so regardless as to make reply in nickel-pieces? These moneys is small, but very good for Japanese education. Thanks so many!

If I could get good job somewhere writing novel-books I would learn this American language, which is hard thing to do because so full of words. American gentlemen I have speaked to employ the 2 following kinds of conversation:

1. Kind what is discovered in Dixionary book.

2. Kind what is not there.

In Dixionary of Hon. Noah Webster there contain 26,000 language-words to talk. It took this gentleman lifetime to do so. To speak American language it is necessary to learn them 26,000 natural words, which I have did, thank you. But it is useless to try so hard because Elsewhere-words is commonly used for conversation. Where must Japanese Boy go to obtain such talk?

My cousin Nogi explain this answer. He say that Elsewhere-words of American mans is called “Slank,” which means “talking-with-words-that-is-found-here-and-there.” Dixionary talk is good for church sociables, high-schools, and professors; Slank talk is good for riots, prize-fighting, newspapers, colleges, and all kinds of energy. Both are good ways to know.

Frequently in walking about sidewalk I hear gentlemans cry, “24 for you!” This is signal for great laugh which all do. I can not tell when to, so I do not. What then is so humoristic about this number “24”? Would not number 12 or number 14 do equally fine for laughing purposes? I require to know.

Lemons, too, is comic fruit for Slank-talking persons. Joking-gentlemans deliver these lemon fruit to each other for holiday gift. It is insulting not to laugh when this is done.

To-day I speak to Hon. Mr. Strunsky, Irish gentleman, about Hon. W. J. Bryan, late President of these Uniteds State.

“Where has he fell to?” I require for answer.

“This Bryan man is dead one,” report Hon. Strunsky.

“So sorry—I shall wear mourning for this good man,” I reject.

“Tall timber is place for you,” resume this Strunsky man with laughing eye.

“So sorry not to do,” I say back, “because forest is far distant from great city.”

“Then pursue self around this block, Hon. Togo,” he compel. I do so, thank you. But while exercising I stop with abrupt brain-thought. Them words of Mr. Strunsky was less Dixionary talk than Slank talk! Tell me, Mr. Editor, how should I translate them conversation of Strunsky into Japanese?

It is disadvantage of American language that gentlemen cannot be insulting to each other without some impoliteness. One gentleman meet some other gentleman at saloon-corner. Making step-up to each other one gentleman explain,

“You are a pill!”

Immediately following noises are enjoyed:

1. Night cry.

2. Broken property.

3. Approach of ambulance.

4. Silence.

In Japan, among top-classes, trouble is enjoyed more peaceably. Suppose Count Noku desire to have insult with Baron Obi. They shall meet at lunch, thank you, to talk this. They first disgust their appetites with tea, cigarettes, Japanese ginger-snaps, conversation. Finally at last Count Noku say to Baron Obi,

“Esteemed & high-horse Samurai, would you care to have insult for me?”

“Magnificent Count,” say this Obi, “it is your exalted privilege to insult me.”

“Thank you for the benefit,” say this Noku, “I will do so.” And so saying this he pull one hair from head of that Obi.

“Ouch, thank you, I am insult!” retort Baron Obi. Following this there is quiet hara-kiri with table-knife.

At food-stand of Mr. Swartz I often lunch there for economy. Best nourishment may be obtained for 5c by ordering 3 sausages from Frankfurter Germany with slice of toast.

Yesterday I go as customary to this. As customary I say, “Give me the same, those 3 sausages from Frankfurter.”

And Mr. Swartz, turning to cookeryman, cry with voice:

“Hot-dog!”

Therefore I must not eat them food because it is cannibalism. If Mr. Swartz is not speaking Slank talk, then he should be sent to prison for Pure Food Laws.

You may see, Mr. Sir., how it is not safe to go around in this U. S. without sufficient Slank words. Japanese schoolboys might be poisoned by eating something which is Slank for something else. To example this danger, my cousin Nogi say how Hon. Casey of Labouring Union is “a lobster.” I am very fond to eat lobster, but I should disgust to eat this Mr. Casey.

I have been collecting them Elsewhere-words all day and have congregated quite a cluster of Slank talk which I shall put into Dixionary for Japanese Schoolboys. I am very excited when I think of this vocabulary. I have arranged many of them raggle-time speeches into following poetical thought which I was misfortune enough to sent with 2c postage to Miss Alice Furioki, lady I tell you I was engaged to marry with:

_LOVING SENTIMENT EXPRESSED IN AMERICAN LANGUAGE_

How do I stand in relation to you, O Peach?
Is Japanese Boy A. no. 1 or twenty-third in line for your misbehaving
eyes?
Peek-a-boo, I am on the wink,
I am batty in thoughts,
Also insect-house, because my heart is mashed!
It would JAR you to know!
Do not give me the refusal on neck,
Do not see me with glass-eye.
Or present frost-mitten with cod-fish expression,
O exquisite one; O tootsy-woot,
O Pansy.

Must I remain infinitely distant among waving of Tall Grass?
Or must I get more closer, more cozy-corner,
More next?
Can not this Japanese be candy-boy for you,
Sure-thing, bet-your-life, O joy?
To be Johnny-on-dot for you,
To pay steady car-fare (when possible)
This would be ticket for Girl Proposition.
Such a cheese!

On the death, are you giving me some string,
Are you hot-airing me?
How about waiting at church?
Will it be yet, if not soon?
I require for answer
As p. d. q. as possible, O Fluffy Ruffles—
Otherwise
No wedding gong for Japanese Boy!

These answer from that lovely Japanese come back by gallop response:

DEAR SIR—Your poetry in Swedish language is here, thank you to
understand. I shall ask Hon. Mrs. Johannessenn to translate
this, if respectable. I am not awaiting some reply for this.
Yours thankfully,

ALICE FURIOKI (Miss).

Perhapsly, Mr. Editor, you had more better postpone my wedding with her. Besides this she has recently married my cousin Nogi, which is very selfish act.

In Japan there is a quaint rhythm-song which is sang by all philosophers and gentlemen engaged for marriage. It is like these in Japanese.

Ichi-ho, pachi-ko,
Nagasaki run—
Sago-man, koko-man,
Bun, bun, bun!

This words when translated to American say like these: “Going around makes returning in circles, but continuing that may keep up.” This is very wise poem—but what does it mean? In some way it are like American Slank talk.

All well here except J. Furo, who is not.

Yours truly,

HASHIMURA TOGO.

XII

THE VISIT OF THE FLEET TO SAN FRANCISCO

SAN FRANCISCO, May 6th.

_To Editor New York newspaper who I occasionally trust & often
admire for quotation from Hon. Browning._

MR.—O!!! Patriotick banzai of hurrah!

America Fleet of Roosevelt Excursionists have arrive to S. F. Ferry Depot.

I would of send this by wire-telegraf, but Hon. Operator was inattentive about me when I have no price sufficiently much to. He say: “Who-pay?” I-say: “Hon. Editor.” “Hon. Editor may-be-so will,” he demure and resume job of tick-tick. Good-by for me.

Morning of fleet-arrive was splandid. By early hour of day all S. F. persons has clustered therselves on tip of hills & suppression of excitement was enjoyed. Considerable watching occurred. Barking of dogs was strangled by collars, infant babies which desired to weep was spanked for prevention of. Silences. Depressed banners was held in American hands to get ready wave it.

Many persons in Sabbath clothings was there, including 1,000 Japanese Spies which were very nice behaviour. I was nationally proud of them.

Of suddenly, Oh!!!

Through crack of Goldy Gate, what-see? Maglifisent sight of marine insurance! Floating war-boats of dozens approaching directly straight by line & shooting salutes at people. On come them Imperial Navy of Hon. Roosevelt & Hon. Hobson; what heart could quit beating at it? Such white paint—like bath-tub enamel, only more respectful in appearance.

All shout, all maddy banzai, including me & Cousin Nogi which was wishing that Hon. Togo could been there to shoot in opposite direction. Would it not been a impressive pair of naval spectacles? I ask to know.

From collected ½ million of persons on hills of S. F. one mad yall of star-spangly joy. Fire-crack salute, siren whistle, honk-horn, megaphone, extra edition, tenor solo—all connected together to give impressions of loyal panderonium. What say Lord Macawber, English history-poet, in “Lies of Ancient Rome”?

“And even the ranks of Tuskagee
Could scarce forbear a cheer.”

(I wish I could sent this wire-telegram for speed. Please excuse sneer from Hon. Operator.)