XSPRING

San Francisco, April 1st.

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

Dear SirO! 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.

Wheredothis 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 manytrunks 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 Christianlady 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.”

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

“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. Pitchthrow 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 withclub. 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!”

“O Spring, Spring,

Thou art such gentle thing!”

Hon. Japanese Emperor read this songsing and call Hon. Bashu to court-house and give himone 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:

Told me in song-sing, tree-bird of April Foolish,Why do America FleetTravel so low-down in water-tight Ocean?Why-soIs all symptoms of armour-belt missingAnd why such cargo of weight?“Twit! Twit!”Response them animal in voice of Commander Sims,“Them Pacific Fleet travel deep-downFor 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 OhioFeel so just about Negro-race?Are he Senator from BrownsvilleThat he is dutifully obligedTo make them hurt soundsWhen 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 nowThat 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 personsMake such elaborate hand-claspWith red automobileAnd other National emblemsWhen Hon. Eugene SchmitzBroke jail?What did he done in jailTo give him such cleanly reputationIn 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 GrafterTo go jail,Then he must be great enough GrafterTo get out.San Francisco is excited about Local Talent.”Thus saying it, them April Foolish BirdMake a noise like Emma GoldmanAnd flatter awayIn direction of Boise City, Idaho.

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 OhioFeel so just about Negro-race?Are he Senator from BrownsvilleThat he is dutifully obligedTo make them hurt soundsWhen 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 nowThat he enjoy complete eclipse, thank you.”And them peculiar Chicken make knocking noise with bill.

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 personsMake such elaborate hand-claspWith red automobileAnd other National emblemsWhen Hon. Eugene SchmitzBroke jail?What did he done in jailTo give him such cleanly reputationIn 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 GrafterTo go jail,Then he must be great enough GrafterTo get out.San Francisco is excited about Local Talent.”Thus saying it, them April Foolish BirdMake a noise like Emma GoldmanAnd flatter awayIn direction of Boise City, Idaho.

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.

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