I KNEW the little bride; a pretty child, not a day over fifteen, with great, dark eyes and dimpled cheeks, white even teeth, and rich fair complexion. She had often come in to spend an hour with me in my home in Cairo, affording me much diversion by her childish, artless ways and merry laughter.
But now she was to be married—this baby girl. Her future husband had never seen her face; for, according to the custom of the people, the parents had made all the arrangements, and the contract usual in such ceremonies had been drawn up by the fathers and mothers and signed in the presence of a priest without a word or suggestion from the parties most concerned in the transaction. The intended bridegroom was a young clerk in the employof an English friend, a handsome, intelligent boy, but with little experience of life. We had heard the wedding was to be a grand affair, and were glad to accept an invitation to this Egyptian ceremony.
On the night of the marriage, the bridal procession, or zeffeh as it is called, looked as if wrapped in flames as it came slowly up the narrow street in the midst of hundreds of colored torches. A band was playing Arab tunes and women were ringing out thezaghareet—wedding laugh of joy—which is a kind of trill made with the tongue and throat. The entire way was lit with expensive fireworks of brilliant variety, and all the street wraps worn were of gorgeous colors.
Our little friend marched in this slow procession, her features concealed, as usual; that is, she was wrapped in a cashmere shawl, not covered by a canopy, as in Arab weddings, although in many respects the Coptic ceremony is similar to that of the Moslems.
She wore a white silk gown embroidered with gold, and over this a long flowing robe of lace,while masses of diamonds fastened the white face-veil to her turban.
Just before her walked two little boys carrying censers the smoke of which must have poured directly into her face as she walked slowly on enveloped in her cashmere wrappings.
On either side and a little in advance of the bride were the male relatives and friends, while behind her, continually trilling thezaghareet, followed the female friends; and along the whole procession two boys ran back and forth, bearing silver flasks of pomegranate form filled with perfume which they jetted in the faces of the guests in a most delicious spray.
The house of the bridegroom's father where the marriage was to take place, is situated in a narrow street off the Mooski, and as we reached the entrance we were met by black slaves who handed us each a lighted taper. Then a sheep was killed on the door-stone—a custom, I believe, observed only in Cairo, and some of the larger cities of Egypt. The bride, glittering with her diamonds and gorgeous costume, was carried over it andthen the whole procession walking over the blood—the body having been removed—all of us bearing our lights—went in to the marriage, and the door was shut. Does it not remind you of the Parable of the Ten Virgins of old?
We were conducted to a room, very lofty and spacious. A low divan reached around it and constituted its sole furniture, excepting the table on which was spread the marriage supper.
At this supper I witnessed a custom which reminded me of an old Roman story. A slave brought in two sugar globes on separate dishes. When these were placed upon the table, one of the guests was invited to open them. Immediately upon one having been broken, out flew a lovely white dove, its neck encircled with tiny bells which rang merrily as it flew about. The other dove did not at first fly, when liberated from its sugar cage; but one of the guests lifted it up until it fluttered away like the other. If either of the doves should not fly, these superstitious people would draw from it an evil omen.
Many Arab dishes were set before us, amongthem boned fowl stuffed with raisins, pistachio, nuts, bread and parsley; sweets and melons following. But as an Arab eats with remarkable rapidity, one course was hardly brought before another took its place.
We were soon ready to accompany our host to the room where the marriage ceremony was to be performed, into which we were ushered in the midst of Arab music, sounding cymbals, smoking-incense, thezaghareet, and the unintelligible mutterings of many priests.
The bridegroom, clad in an immense white silk cloak embroidered with silk and gold, sat waiting in one of two palatial-looking chairs. In the midst of a perfect storm of music and confusion a door opened, and the bride, her face still veiled, entered and took the chair beside the bridegroom.
There were four priests to officiate in this novel marriage, three of whom were blind; these muttered Coptic prayers and filled the air with incense, while the priest whose eyes were perfect tied the nuptial knot by binding the waiting couple to each other with several yards of tape, knocking theirheads together, and at last placing his hands in benediction on their foreheads and giving them a final blessing.
This concluded the ceremony.
We were glad to escape from the close room into the pure out-of-door air. We drove away under the clear, star-lit heavens, through the narrow streets with their tall houses and projecting balconies, out into the Mooski, the Broadway of Cairo, now silent and deserted; on into the wide, new streets, and so home; but it was nearly morning before I fell asleep, for the tumultuous music and trillings and mutterings of that strange ceremony rang in my ears and filled my thoughts with as strange reveries as if I had eaten hasheesh.
THE first few years of my life were passed in Paris and, though my parents were American, I grew up quite like a French child as did, indeed, my brother and two little sisters.
The greater part of our time was spent in Paris and as we lived near the Bois de Boulogne we were taken there every day by ourbonneand allowed to play to our hearts' content. Some of you have probably been in this beautiful park and walked through its broad avenues and its hundreds of shady little alleys.
You may have followed as we did some of the merry little streams to find out where they would lead you, or better than all you may have joined in the play of some of the French children and discovered games new and strange to you. Allthis became very familiar to us and I often think of the good times we had there, when all the days were like fête days, and of the pretty games we used to play there with the charming French children.
French children think "the more the merrier;" so when a game is proposed the first thing they do is to look about and see if there are not other children near by whom they can ask to join them. This is done as much for the sake of showing politeness as to increase numbers, and as it is the custom, the mammas or the nurses of the invited children never refuse to let them take part in the fun.
Hide-and-seek or "cache-cache," blind-man's-buff or "Colin Maillard," tag, marbles, all these we also played; but there were other games I have never seen in this country.
One of which we never tired was "Le Loup—the Wolf." A boy was usually chosen for the wolf, and while he withdrew a short distance the others sauntered about among the trees, leisurely singing this little song:
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Promenons-nous dans les boispendant que le loup n'y est pas.Let us walk in the woods,while the wolf is not about.
Then they call "Loup, viens-tu?—Wolf, are you coming?" "Non, je me lève—No, I'm getting up," replies the Wolf. Then they sing again and call, "Loup, viens-tu?" "Non, je m'habille—No, I'm dressing." This goes on for some time, the wolf prolonging the agony as much as possible, and stopping to get his hat, his cane, or cigar, but finally making a rush with, "Je viens—I'm coming!" he dives into the crowd, scattering the children in every direction and making general havoc. The one who happens to be captured is the "wolf" the next time.
Another game more limited to little girls, was, "Sur le Pont d'Avignon." We formed a ring and danced around singing:
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Sur le pont d'Avignonon y danse, on y danse,Sur le pont d'Avignon,on y danse, tout en rond.Les dames font comme ça,et puis encore comme ça.
"On the bridge of Avignon the people dance in a ring, the ladies do this way" (courtesying).
The next time it is "Les blanchiseuses font comme ça—the washerwoman, etc.," suiting the action to words; then "Les couturières font comme ça—the dressmakers do this way." Every trade or occupationwas gone through with in like manner with the greatest earnestness.
Here is another of the same character:
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1. Savez-vous planter les chouxà, la mode, à la mode,Savez-vous planter les chouxà, la mode, de chez nous.2. On les plantent avec les doigtsà, la mode, à la mode,On les plantent avec les doigtsà, la mode, de chez nous.3. On les plantent avec le piedà, la mode, à la mode,On les plantent avec le piedà, la mode, de chez nous.
But the prettiest of these singing games was "La Marguerite." To play this a circle was formed aroundLa Marguerite, who was supposed to be a beautiful princess waiting to be rescued from herimprisonment. Two knights seeking her walked round the ring singing:
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1. Où est la Marguerite?Oh qué,Oh qué,Oh qué,Où est la Marguerite,Oh qué son chevalier.2. Elle est dans son château,Oh qué,Oh qué,Oh qué,Elle est dans son château,Oh qué son chevalier.
And then, one by one, stones were loosened from the tower; that is, the ring was made smaller and smaller untilLa Margueritewas set at liberty.
The skipping-rope and the hoop are, or were then, much more used there then here; and to skip the rope gracefully, or guide a hoop dexterously, was an accomplishment.
Whoever was agile enough to pass the rope under the feet twice while giving one skip was looked upon with admiration. New developmentsconstantly took place with the skipping-rope or "corde à sauter," and all sorts of evolutions were gone through with, many of which were pretty and graceful.
Lively games were usually played in some wide open space near the Porte Maillot, one of the entrances to the Bois, as there was always sure to be a great number of both grown people and children thereabout. But there were retired nooks where our little band sometimes gathered and made merry. One favorite retreat was a pine grove; "Les Sapins" we called it.
Here the little girls liked best to play dolls, or make adinettewith theirgoûterof a tablet of chocolate and some bread which forms the regulation lunch of most French children. Sometimes we amused ourselves in gathering the resinous matter which oozed from the pines, sticking to the bark, and from it we made little plasters and doll medicines.
"La Mousse" was the name of another haunt; this was a mossy bank which on one side sloped gently down to one of the main avenues and on theother descended abruptly into a ravine calledLa Fosse. It was a great place for the boys and such a turning of somersets and racings down the steep sides of the Fosse as there were!
A favorite occupation was the making of gardens; and then there was a hunt for the prettiest mosses, the tiniest, brightest pebbles and the most tree-like twigs. Then a place was marked out on the side of the smooth sandy path and usually near a bench where would be sitting ourbonnesor whoever was taking care of us. Paths were traced and bordered with the pebbles; smooth lawns made of the velvety moss, and small branches stuck in for trees; while miniature flower-beds were made and filled with the smallest flowers to be found.
These gardens were often very pretty and much ingenuity could be displayed in laying them out. We sometimes made them in some secluded spot hoping to find them again the next day; but we never did, for Paris is the neatest city in the world and the Bois de Boulogne receives its share of cleaning and garnishing every day in the year.
There is nothing "snubby" or ungracious aboutFrench children, and I remember how many a time we helped poor peasant children pick up stray bits of wood to make their fagots, or invited them to share our fun.
One day we saw a crowd of these children carrying baskets filled with acacia-blossoms which they said were to be made into fritters!
We found that a large acacia-tree, laden with the snowy fragrant clusters, had been cut down and the people were plucking as much of the booty as they could carry away with them. We followed their example and that evening we had the addition of some delicious fritters to our dinner. The grape-like clusters had been dipped into a light batter, fried and sprinkled with sugar; truly they made a dish fit for a king.
Happy hours were those spent in the dear old Bois de Boulogne and if any of you girls and boys who read this ever go there, may you have as happy ones!
ONE hot day towards the close of April, when the air fairly danced between the red sun and the reflected glare of the sand, our dahabeeah, theLohengrin, was drifting with the current down the Negadeh reach of the Nile, in Upper Egypt. On each shore a rampart of bleak desert hills reared their craggy fronts, pouring from their gorges deep wind-silted shoots of sand which here and there swept over the narrow river-margin of fertile field and date grove. Few were the villages that we passed, and those that could be seen nestled under their canopy of palms, as if seeking refuge from the fierce sun. Their dusty streets appeared untenanted save for the ever-wheeling flights of pigeons, and the inevitable dogs, and everything had shunned the track of the chariot ofthe Egyptian sun-god, Ra. Everything but the birds, which—glorying in the heat of the noontide—were abroad on their bright eastern wings in endless numbers by "field and flood." Indeed many of the mud-flats, left in mid-stream by the subsidence of the waters, seemed alive with the noise and movement of feathered habitants, chattering in a thousand different tones—pompous old pelicans snapping their absurd bills in contemptuous disapproval of some silly water-gull's proposition; tall storks and cranes spoiling their dignity of blue-plumed head and neck by standing on one leg with the superfluous one tucked carefully out of the way; surly vultures fanning their wings in the hot sun, and stretching their ugly heads in gorged laziness; ragged kites swooping amongst a motley crowd of ravens; quarreling hawks and eagles, fastidious siksaks, terns, and coots running backwards and forwards over the dry mud, and wondering at the calm of ducks and geese who preferred standing stationary in the shallows, whence they in their turn could quack scorn of the spasmodic energy of the terns and their frantic brethren.
But there is an ennui that comes of watching the slow shifting scenes of the banks while the dahabeeah drifts onward with the Nile's current—an ennui that the heat of an Egyptian April day rather heightens than lessens, wherefore I determined to go ashore for a ramble. Our destination for the evening was the small village, El Wasta, some few miles further to the north; so telling my friends that I would rejoin them there, and taking with me my boon companion in all such enterprises, a pretty-faced Syrian boy named Gomah, whose knowledge of a dozen French words and about half that number of English made him a serviceable interpreter with the Arabs, I rowed to the western shore. We chose for a landing-place one of those desert offshoots, and consequently had much tiring exercise trudging through the soft sand till the borders of the neighboring fields were reached. Here and there we passed a solitary palm or dwarfed cluster of sont-trees, and occasionally our steps would lead us by some dry-mud hollow, startling the repose of some white ibis, or the meditations of the ubiquitous gray-headed crow.
We had wandered thus by a long circuit inland when, emerging again on the river, we sighted a small village half-hidden amongst its tall palms, and too insignificant on the map of the world to bear the dignity of a name. Between us and its small cluster of huts was a field of tall clover, by the borders of which were playing about some young goats too intent on their gamboling to notice how closely they were being watched by the keen eyes of an eagle perched on a mound amongst the fodder. This bird I endeavored to stalk by performing the somewhat tiring feat of crawling through the tall clover with my gun under me, and, successfully getting within range, brought him toppling down from his high pinnacle. The subsequent results, however, were very unexpected. No sooner had I risen to my feet than all the village dogs set on me, and commenced howling in most atrocious unison, with the decided intention of resisting my unbidden presence in their domains. Happily these were soon silenced by a native woman passing at the moment, whose authority they were in nowise anxious to resent. One oldyellow cur, however, dissatisfied perhaps with the peaceful turn things had taken, climbed one of the mud huts and from that stronghold of safety gave vent to most persistent growls.
Several of the men and boys now issued forth from the narrow lanes of the village, and, after the formalities of salutation had been interchanged, commenced examining my gun. They seemed greatly pleased with its appearance, but flatly refused to believe in its powers until convinced by actual experiment.
While we were thus chatting the shaykh of the village had joined us unperceived and now coming forward, with many salutations asked me to visit his house. This I readily assented to as well from a desire to talk with this gray-bearded old lion in his den, as from the necessities of Eastern courtesy.
So escorted by some of the Arabs carrying their long staves of wood or "nebuts," we passed on down the tortuous alleys of this animated dust-heap, by tumbling hut, and dusty square, by the village pond—half-dried with the summer heat, and from the margin of which two or three palms rearedtheir feathered heads, until the party came to a standstill before a mud-hut, somewhat larger, perhaps, than its surrounding neighbors, but not a whit less simple or ruinous.
Mud-built, with a low door and two small windows, it had little to boast of grandeur, except a coat of whitewash which sadly needed renewing. Like its fellows it was crowned with many white and gray jars sunk into the muddy composition of the building, wherein a multitude of pigeons found habitation; while every nook and corner round about these earthen pigeon-homes was fitted with branches of sont or other wood to serve as perches for them. Over the doorway was let into the mud of the lintel the customary broken saucer to guard against and absorb the harmful intentions of those possessed of the "evil-eye," and having duly gazed thereon we were bidden to enter this unpretentious "home" of the village shaykh.
The bright glare of the sun streaming in through the empty doorway lent a sort of twilight to the interior of the hut sufficient to distinguish objects clearly by. It was a large room—that is largeas things-Egyptian go—roofed with split palm logs intertwined with their leaves, and its floor, like the walls, bare mud save for the kind carpeting of sand which some windy day had carried thither. On two sides of the room a couple of earthen "divans" faced each other, and in the far corner was a large kulleh in which the grain provisions of the family were doubtless stored, but other furniture there was none. In the wall opposite the entrance, the dark shadow of another doorway showed in contrast against the brown surroundings, but whether it led into the intricacies of the shaykh's domestic household, or out into some village lane, was wrapped in the secrecy of its own gloom.
In the centre of this square swallow's nest sort of habitation the shaykh, myself, Gomah and some half-dozen elders of the village had seated ourselves on the floor in a circle, and the inevitable cigarettes and coffee were handed round. Over these we discussed, more or less satisfactorily considering the extremely limited linguistic powers possessed by myself, Gomah and the company, various topicsuntil the dinner hour of our aged host arrived.
I had hoped to have escaped this ordeal, but the laws of courtesy forbade any retreat. Moreover I had some ambition to witness the ordinary dinner of an Arab household, and this taking "potluck" with a shaykh was a chance too excellent to be missed. The arrangements were admirably simple, and charmingly well fitted to the general convenience. In the centre of our circle an Arab boy first placed a three-legged-stool affair on which he proceeded to balance a large circular tray, big enough to hold dinner for twice the number of guests present. In the middle of this improvised table he next placed an enormous bowl of boiled beans—a veritable vegetable Goliath, steaming and of decidedly savory odor—which he then surrounded with sundry small saucers containing butter, sour milk, cream, carraway seeds, and an infinitude of a peculiar kind of brown bread, which is happily only to be found in the land of Pharaohs and Ptolemies. By the side of each person was placed a small kulleh of water, and now the feast was ready.
Though I had attended at something of the same sort before in Egypt I did not feel quite confident of themodus operandito be followed here. Believing that possibly local customs might differ I concluded the wiser course would be to await events and see how my neighbors managed, so that I might adopt their method as my own. But alas! Arab politeness was too rigid to allow me to carry out my desire, and from the general delay it was evident that I was expected to lead off the revels.
Accordingly putting a bold face on my doubts I broke off a piece of the bread, dipped it first into the cream (for the excellent reason that that particular saucer was nearest) then into the milk and anything that came handy and—purposely forgetting that awful mountain of beans—tried to look happy while I overcame the difficulties of the unsavory morsel. Apparently my attempts at guessing the method in vogue were not wholly unsuccessful, or the manners of my fellow guests were too good to allow me to think otherwise, and with this debût away all started at eating.
And how they did eat! To judge by the appetitesbeing displayed around me, there had not been any food distributed in the village for many a long day. Into that fast diminishing mound of beans hands were plunging each moment, bread was being broken and dipped into all the smaller saucers seemingly indiscriminately, and water ever carried to the well-nigh choked lips.
In the midst of all this I saw, with much expectant horror, the shaykh arrange on a small piece of bread a choice (to him) assortment of beans, butter, cream, and all the strange ingredients of the meal. Too well I knew what that mistaken courtesy boded for me, and as its maker leant invitingly forward, I had perforce to allow the old dusky rascal to pop the undesirable morsel with all its hideous unpalatableness into my mouth. When I had duly recovered the effects of this moment, the tragedy had, of course, to be re-enacted on my own part. Calling into play therefore all my lost memories of how to feed a young blackbird, I concocted the counterpart of his admixture, and "catching his eye," I—well, reciprocated the compliment.
This incident seemed to end the first part of the entertainment and the despoiled fragments were now taken away to be replaced by a central pile of bread, adorned with similar small saucers, as before, containing milk in various stages of sourness, cream, carraway seeds, and honey. Here again was I expected to give the sign for beginning, and so taking a fragment of bread I dipped it bodily with all the contempt that comes of familiarity into the milk first, which loosened its already very flabby consistency and then into the honey in which it promptly broke off and stuck. This unlucky essay of mine proved too much for the mirthfulness of some of the party, but one burly neighbor, with a gentleness most foreign to his fierce aspect, undertook to show me how to overcome the difficulty. It was very simple and my fault was merely the ordinary one of reversing the order of things. First dipping the bread into the honey my kind instructor then dipped it into the milk and conveyed the result to his spacious mouth. Thus enlightened I did likewise and achieved success, and all set to work again at the edibles before them.
But this course was much less violent than the last, and soon disposed of. When it was over the boy, who had heretofore filled the part of food-bearer, came around to each guest in turn and poured over their hands water from a pitcher which he carried, holding a bowl underneath meanwhile, and presenting a cloth to each after such ablution. A not unnecessary service, for the absence of knives and forks at dinner may have the advantage of economy, and revert for authority to the primitive days of Eden, but when carried out it is fraught with much that is compromising to the fingers. Moreover Egyptian honey is no less sticky than that of other lands.
The dinner was now wound up with coffee and cigarettes—not the least pleasing part to me—and a hubbub of chatting. But as the evening shadows were already creeping amongst the palms outside, and El Wasta—my harbor of refuge for the night—was yet some distance off, I begged my kind host's permission to continue my way. His Arab courtesy, however, was not to be hindered even here, and he insisted upon accompanyingme to the confines of his village fields, where with many pretty excuses for his years and duties he at last consented to bid me farewell.
He left me to the care of "two of his young men," as he called them, charging them to take me safely to El Wasta, the palms of which we could see far down the river standing out against the evening sky.
Of the many pleasant mental photographs which I have of travel, that simple dinner with my kind shaykh of the unknown village holds a prominent tablet to itself. I had asked him for his ancient and time-worn tobacco-pouch when bidding farewell, that I might have the excuse of giving him mine in exchange, which at least had the advantage to an Eastern eye of plenty of color and bright metal. A fellow traveller whose wanderings have since led him by my steps of that day, tells me he found the old shaykh still owning that poor gift of mine, and that he keeps strange talismans and Koranic-script in its recesses as an infallible preventive against the dangers of ophthalmia, and to guard against his pigeon homes blowing down.
WE were Americans and lived on one of the West India islands. Which one I shall not say; you may guess from the hints I give you.
It belonged to Denmark, and was inhabited by people of almost every nation, for the city was a busy trading place and famous sea-port.
This variety of nationalities is an advantage, or a disadvantage, just as you choose to think. To us children it was the most delightful thing in the world—why, we saw a Malay sailor once; but an English novelist, who wrote many books, visited our island, and said in a contemptuous way that it was "a Dano-Hispano-Yankee Doodle-niggery place." This was in the book he published about the West Indies and the Spanish Main. We childrennever forgave that remark.
An American refers incidentally to our old home in a beautiful story, calledA Man Without a Country. How the tears rolled down our cheeks as we read that Philip Nolan had been there in the harbor—perhaps just inside Prince Rupert's Rocks!
I wonder if you have read that story? To us it was almost sacred, so strong was our love of country, and we believed every word to be true. The first piece of poetry Tom wished to learn was "Breathes there a man with soul so dead." But Tom was too small to learn anything but Mother Goose at the time he had his Birthday Party. He was a chubby little fellow, whose third anniversary was near at hand, and he was so clamorous for a party—he scarcely knew what a party was, but he wanted it all the more for that reason—that his parents laughingly gave way to him.
We did not keep house as people do in this country; in fact the house itself differed greatly from such as you see.
The climate was warm all the year round, and there were no chimneys where no fires were needed.There were no glass windows, excepting on the east side. At all other windows we had only jalousie blinds, with heavy wooden shutters outside to be closed when a hurricane was feared. The wonderful Trade Winds blew from the East, and sometimes brought showers; for this reason, we had glass on that side. The floors were of North Carolina pine, one of the few woods insects will not eat into and destroy. It is a pretty cream yellow, that looked well between the rugs scattered over it. Balconies and wide verandas were on all sides of the house.
As to servants, they were all colored and we had to have a great many, for each would only take charge of one branch of service, and usually must have a deputy or assistant to help. For instance, Sophie, the cook, had a woman to clean fish, slice beans, and do such work for her, as well as attend to the fires. There was no stove in the kitchen. A kind of counter, three feet wide and about as high, built of brick, was on two sides of the room; this had holes in the top here and there. The cooking was done over these holes filled with charcoal; so instead of one fire to cook dinner, Sophie had asoup fire, a fish fire, a potato fire, and so forth. A small brick oven baked the few things she cooked that way.
Tom's nurse, or Nana, as all West India nurses were called, was a tall negress, very dignified and imposing in her manners, and so good we loved her dearly. She always wore a black alpaca gown, a white apron covering the whole front of it, a white handkerchief crossed over her bosom, and one tied over her hair. Her long gold ear-rings were her only ornaments. These rings were very interesting, because Nana often announced to us that she had lost a friend and was wearing "deep mourning." This meant that she had covered her ear-rings with black silk neatly sewed on. They were mournful-looking objects then, I assure you.
I cannot describe all the servants, odd as they were, nor give you any idea of their way of talking—Creole, Danish, and broken English—but I must mention our butler, or "houseman," Christian Utendahl, the most important member of the household in his own opinion.
As soon as the party was decided on, Christianand Nana were called in to be consulted. Then it was discovered what a tiresome undertaking a child's party might be. All children under the care of Nanas must have those Nanas specially invited, and a particular kind of punch must be made for them; then champagne must be provided for the little ones to drink toasts.
"Oh, this will never do. I cannot think of such a thing," said mamma.
"I must advise you so to do, Madame," answered Christian. "Nana's punch is lemonade wid leetle bit claret in it; and when you see de glasses I'll permide fer de champagne you'll see fer you'sef dey can't hole a timmle full. Fer de credit of de family, Madame, fer fear folks'll say 'Americains don't know how to behave,' I must adwise you."
The last sentence was a powerful argument, and the solemn negro used it with effect.
Here Nana interposed, saying, "My lady, how you expec my leetle man to know how to conduct hes-sef less we begin wid his manners jes now?" Then she added that she could not appear without a new gown, apron and head-handkerchief, and theapronoughtto have Mexicain drawn-work a finger "deep at de bottom of it to be credi-tabble."
Next, Nana said the birthday cakemustbe made by Dandy and covered with as many "sugar babies" as there were guests.
These babies were pure sugar figures on straws and were stuck into the cake through the icing.
"The 'Kranse Kage' and the 'Krone Kage' can be made at home by Ellen and Sophie, Miss Lind and Mrs. Harrigen," said Christian.
"Is a 'Kranse Kage' absolutely necessary?" asked mamma. "It will keep the women pounding almonds a whole day and it is very unwholesome."
"Of course it is necessary," said both advisers together, and "it would bring de chile bad luck to have it made out of de house," said Nana.
"Then we will have it and dispense with the 'Krone Kage.'"
"Not have a 'Krone Kage'! Oh, we must have dat out of compliment to de King, Madame."
Here mamma gave up in despair and let the rulers of the household have their way without further resistance.
Christian delivered the invitations to the party in his most formal manner. The Hingleberg boys, Emile Haagensen, Alma Pretorius, Ingeborg Hjerm, Nita Gomez, Achille Anduze, and several other boys and girls accepted promptly.
During the next few days there was so much excitement in the household, so much disagreement between Christian and Nana, and Tom was so vociferous, mamma said nothing would ever induce her to give a party for children again.
In Tom's good moments you would be sure to see him standing with his hands behind him, while Nana trained him in what he should say and do. "Sissy," he whispered to me, "Nana says if I ain't very, very dood she'll gie me afatoibefore evelly body."
(We never knew what this mysterious punishment was, and now we think it must be Creole for something that never happens. We were often threatened with it and as often escaped it.)
At last the day came, and Tom was to be allowed to haul up the flag that morning. (We always kept the American flag floating over ourhouse.) When the Danish soldiers fired the sunrise cannon from the fort, Tom pulled on the ropes with all his strength, his dear little face as red as it could be, and when the flag reached the top of the tall staff he gave a long sigh of satisfaction.
We were not to see the parlors till just before the guests were to come, about twelve o'clock. When we did go in we screamed with delight. The rooms were filled with flowers. The pillars were hidden by long ferns and the Mexican vine which has long wreaths of tiny pink flowers, such as you may have seen in the dress caps of babies. Tall vases of pink and white oleander filled the alcove, and everywhere were white carnations, jasmine, frangipanni, and doodle-doo blossoms. All this had been done by the servants as a surprise.
In the middle of the room was the table. The gorgeous birthday cake, bristling with knights, ladies, angels and all kinds of figures, was in the centre, and the Kranse Kage and Krone Kage were at either end of it; in the former a small silk American flag, in the latter a Danish one, were placed; between them were all sorts of good things,just such as you have at your parties. At each plate was the queerest wee glass imaginable.
Tom received many presents. One of them, a gun with a bayonet, gave almost too much bliss. He sat and hugged it, evidently thinking it was "the party."
Christian, dressed in white, met every one at the street gate. To the guests he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Alger presents deir complements and are glad to see you;" and to the Nanas he said politely, "How you so far dis mawning?"
To get to our house, one had to mount three or four steps from the street, then there was a high iron fence and gate. On each side of this were the only trees I ever disliked. We called them the "Boiled Huckleberry Pudding" trees. They had large poisonous-looking leaves, and bore pale lumpish fruit about as large as a quart measure, with small black seeds here and there through them. There were no other trees like them on the island and we had a tradition that they came from Otaheite and would kill any one instantly who tasted the fruit. There were beautiful treesand flowers on this terrace and on all; then came a wall covered with vines, and fifteen stone steps leading to another terrace and another wall. In this second wall, near the pepper-tree, was the home of our two monkeys Jack and Jill. On the third terrace was the house.
Tom received his friends nicely, Nana standing just behind him dressed in her new gown and beautiful apron. We could see she was very anxious lest he should disgrace her before the other Nanas. Often we heard her whisper "Say howdy wid de odder hand, My Heart," or "Mind what I tole you, Son." She escorted the Nanas to the court, where the bowl of punch was standing, and they drank Tom's health with many good wishes.
As soon as all the children had arrived they were seated at table, each Nana standing behind her charge. Daintily and prettily the little ones ate, and when Christian passed the cake around the "sugar babies" were drawn out with much ceremony. Then the other large cakes were cut and served and Christian put a drop of champagne in each little glass. As soon as this was done, quickas thought Carl Hingleberg stood up and said:
"Lienge leve Kongen!"
Would you believe it? Every little tot lifted his or her glass and drank this solemnly. Christian filled the glasses again and we saw Bebé Anduze was being nudged and pushed by her Nana; at last she put her finger in her mouth and hung her head but said very sweetly, "I wiss Tom Alger have many nice birfdays and be a dood boy!"
How we all laughed! And how surprised we were when Tom bowed and said, "Tak," but he spoiled it all by pounding on the table and shouting "Hurrah for Grant!"
When all had done, Nana lifted Tom down from his chair and turned him to the right. Each child he took by the hand and said, "Velbekomme;" and the answer given to him was "Fak for mad." Then Tom scampered off, and came back with his gun and singing with all his might "Den tapre land soldat;" and where he did not know the Danish words, he sang "Good Night, my brudder Ben!" which Nana proudly explained "he composed hes-sef." All the children joined in the chorus andwere pleased at his singing something they all knew.
Now came the great event of the day. We went down to the wharf, where papa had boats ready to take us off to the American man-of-war in the harbor. We were kindly taken all over it and Tom was allowed to fire off a large cannon. This consoled him for the loss of his bayonet, which fell overboard on our way to the ship, by mamma's special request.
We had a delightful afternoon, and, when we returned home, Tom shook hands with all and said,
"Farvel Kom igjen."
Note.—Kranse Kage, Wreath Cake;Krone Kage, Crown Cake;Tak, Thanks;Den tapre land soldat, The brave land soldier;Velbekomme, Welcome;Fak for mad, Thanks for bread, or the food;Lienge leve Kongen, Long live the King;Farvel Kom igjen, Farewell, come again.
Note.—Kranse Kage, Wreath Cake;Krone Kage, Crown Cake;Tak, Thanks;Den tapre land soldat, The brave land soldier;Velbekomme, Welcome;Fak for mad, Thanks for bread, or the food;Lienge leve Kongen, Long live the King;Farvel Kom igjen, Farewell, come again.
ALL the little Siamese children, both boys and girls, have the entire head, except a place on the very top, closely shaved. There a long lock of hair is allowed to grow, and this they wear twisted into a knot and fastened with a jeweled pin.
The cutting of this top-knot, as it is called, is an occasion of great ceremony. All the friends and relatives are invited to attend, and the festivities continue three days. On the third day the hair is cut by a priest, and a lock is preserved in the family. The cutting of the top-knot is equivalent to our coming of age, though the children are generally between eleven and fourteen, and sometimes even younger than that.
The hair-cutting of the King's eldest daughter,Princess Civili, was a most magnificent affair. We went to the palace at ten in the morning for the purpose of seeing the procession. After passing through the outer and inner courts which were thronged with people of almost every Eastern nationality, we were shown into a building reserved for Europeans. Soon we heard the band playing the National Anthem, and then, preceded by the royal body-guard, His Majesty appeared and took his seat near the private entrance to the Temple. Then the procession commenced to file past us. It was headed by a number of men with hatchets, and attired in odd-looking garments. Some of these men wore horrible masks and wigs of long, tangled hair. They looked much like apes, and represented wild men. Next followed two rows of "angels" as they are called, these being men dressed in long loose robes of thin white muslin bordered with gold-embroidered bands. On their heads were tall conical hats of white and gold. These "angels" carried a cord which was attached to the Princess' chair. Between these two rows of angels walked a dozen men in loose red jackets,and short red trousers, with flat caps to match. They held in their hands long reed instruments on which they blew, making a shrill, strange sound.
This was the signal of the approach of the Princess who soon appeared, carried in a high chair, and surrounded by nobles and relatives. She sat as immovable as an image, and looked neither to the right nor the left. With a little more expression, she would have been a very pretty child.
Behind Her Royal Highness' chair were her favorite slaves carrying all the beautiful presents that had been given her.
Aproposof presents, here is a short account of one of them. The United States shipAshuelotwas at that time anchored in the river Chow Phya Miniam, on which river Bangkok is situated. There is a custom in Siam of giving a present in return for one received, though the present given in return is always one of less value. The paymaster of theAshuelot, hearing of this custom, presented Her Royal Highness with a diamond ring, and received in return a handsome gold betel-box of native workmanship. The captain of theAshuelotwho was much annoyed that a subordinate should receive so handsome a gift while he himself received nothing, had the paymaster court-martialed on the ground that an officer in the United States employ had no right to receive a gift from a foreign nation.
But to return to the procession. Following the slaves, came a number of little Siamese girls dressed in white, and wearing a profusion of jewelry. After them, came girls from the provinces all decked in their gayest attire; then two rows of little Chinese girls with painted cheeks and lips, and having artificial flowers in their hair. Closely following came rows upon rows of native women (slaves of the Princess) who walked sedately on with their bright fluttering scarves of red, yellow and green, their hands folded as if in prayer.
Then came a great many little native boys; after these, Chinese boys, and, finally the procession was ended by a company of Hindoostani children followed by a detachment of men servants.
The next two days the procession was exactly the same, except that on the third day the "angels"and the little Siamese girls wore pink robes instead of white.
The cutting of the hair, the praying of the priests, and the bathing of the Princess in various waters, all took place in a large artificial mountain built for the occasion opposite the Temple. None but the King, the ex-Regent and a few other favored individuals were allowed to be present.
On the green, in front of the mountain, we saw a large company of actors. On inquiry we found they were members of His Majesty'slokenor theatre, and formed part of the religious ceremony.
After the cutting of the top-knot all Siamese girls of high rank are kept in the greatest seclusion. Some are sent into the palace and placed under His Majesty's protection. There they remain until married or until Death claims them.