Phemie Frost's Experiences Part 29

x.x.xVIII.

RECEPTION OF THE j.a.pANESE.

Well, sisters, that afternoon the distinguished party mentioned in the papers got out of a carriage, under that square roof in front of the White House steps, and walked with slow, stately steps into the ante-room that I told you of. One of them--a tall, imperial-looking person--was robed in a flowing pink silk, just a little open at the throat, where it was finished off with white lace with a snow-flake figure on it. A long curl fell down this lady's left shoulder, and there was a good deal of frizzing about the lofty forehead, and any amount of puffs back of that.

The other lady--who naturally kept a little in the background--wore white satin, cut to order about the neck and shoulders, and a lot of white stones on her bosom and in her hair, that shone like fire in a dark night.

The man at the door seemed to know us, for he said; "If it's Miss P.

Frost and her friends, walk this way."

We did walk that way, and drew up in that lemon-shaped room, which is so blue and white that you seem to think yourself in the clouds when you go in. Right in the centre of the room is a great big round ring of seats, cushioned all over with blue silk; and right up from the middle of it rose a splendid flower-pot, crowded full of flowers--white, pink, and all sorts of colors--with great long green leaves a-streaming over the edges, and broad, white lilies, that seemed cut out of ragged snow, a-spreading themselves among the green leaves.

A hive of ladies, all in long-trained dresses, and necks according to order, were sitting or standing or moving across the room, looking as proud and grand as peac.o.c.ks on a sunshiny day. Among them was the President's wife--a real nice, sociable lady--who looked just as she ought to in a black velvet, long-trained dress. In fact, of all the women in that room, I liked her the best, she is so sweet and kind in her manners. The minute we came in she turned round and gave us a warm, honest smile, which was about the only downright honest thing I've seen in Washington, as yet.

"Miss Frost," says she, "I'm delighted to see you and your relations. My friend Senator Edmunds has told me about you!"

"Thank you," says I. "No one need want a better recommendation than he can give. We think the world of him in our State."

"I'm glad to hear that," says she. "We think a great deal of him too; in fact, Vermont honors herself in the Senate. But you are looking at the flowers; they are all j.a.panese, in honor of the Emba.s.sy."

"You don't say so," says I; "did the j.a.panese bring the flowers along with them from j.a.pan?"

She laughed a sweet, good-natured little laugh, and says she:

"Oh, no; we raise them in the hot-houses."

Just then there was a bustle in the ante-room, and I saw a slow line of queer-looking little folks filing along toward the east room. Mrs. Grant had turned to talk to Cousin E. E., and I just slid out into the green-room, and stood inside the door to see what all the fuss was about.

Standing against the great window, nearly opposite to me, I saw the President of these United States, with a lot of men around him in black clothes, and farther on stood another lot with their coats all covered over with gold and stars of precious stones a-hanging one after another on their bosoms, and some wore swords, and some didn't; but I tell you there was such a blaze of colors and flash of gold that it seemed to light up the great long room like sunshine, which was convenient, for there wasn't enough in the sky that day to light a family to bed.

While I was wondering what all this magnificence and glory meant, Cousin Dempster happened to see me, and came up to the door.

"What on earth does all that signify in a free country," says I. "It looks like a circus. Do they mean to ride in there? I don't see no horses; and it seems to me their hoofs will spoil the carpet when they come in. Are the j.a.panese people fond of horses?"

"I don't know about that; the President is," whispers Cousin Dempster.

"But never you mind that; he keeps 'em in his stables, and they're not likely to come here."

"Then these fellows in the gold coats will only do rough-and-tumble, I suppose," says I.

"Hush!" says Cousin D., looking round to be sure that no one heard me.

"The rough-and-tumble has been pretty much done up in the Senate this winter."

"Oh!" says I.

"There will be a good deal of it in Philadelphia and Cincinnati, and all over the country, I'm afraid, for I don't think General Grant cares much about that sort of gymnastics."

"Jim what?" says I.

"Turning over and over from one side to the other!" says he.

"I think he's right," says I. "A circus can't be much without horses and hoops, and that fellow with the painted face; but why don't the show begin, such as it is? What do they stand there for, looking lonesome as a cider-press in winter?"

"My dear cousin," says he, looking at me sort of pitiful, "do remember it is the amba.s.sadors of all Europe, to say nothing of South America, that you are speaking of."

"Amba.s.sadors," says I; "so you call them by that name here, do you?"

"They represent governments, kings, and queens."

"I've seen that done in the theatre beautifully. You remember when we went to see 'Julius Caesar,' who wanted to be King of Rome; but I didn't know as they ever did such high-mightiness off on horseback, or through a hoop," says I.

"But, Phmie, these men are genuine. For instance, that gentleman with so much red and gold about him represents Queen Victoria."

"What, in such clothes--hat, coat, and all the rest? I don't believe it," says I. "You won't impose upon me to that extent."

"Not her person," says he, a-getting out of patience, "but her Government."

x.x.xIX.

THE j.a.pANESE.

Well, sisters, that minute there was a commotion in the room. Those who had been leaning against the wall stood up, and the strange-looking men Cousin D. called amba.s.sadors straightened up and fluttered a little, as peac.o.c.ks spread their feathers when the sun breaks out.

Before I could speak, in came the highest c.o.c.kalorum among the j.a.panese, which wasn't very high after all.

"Good gracious!" says I to Cousin D. "The man out there told me the ladies must all go into the blue room. Here I've been hiding behind the door, so as not to be seen, and the first j.a.panese stranger that comes in is a female woman! Goodness gracious! and so are all the rest!"

"No, no," says Cousin D., "it's a man--they're all men."

"With those Dolly Vardens on?" says I. "Do you think I was brought up in the woods, to take doves for night-hawks?"

"It's the j.a.panese fashion," says he.

"For men to dress in--well, skirts?"

"Certainly. Don't you see that the lower skirt is formed into loose trousers that two or three of 'em wear?"

I did look, and saw that the black silk underskirt some of these heathen j.a.panese wore was puckered up a little around the ankles, just enough to show off two peaked shoes, that must have been lovely wearing for a foot that was all great toe, but awkward for one that wasn't. In fact, I began to be awfully puzzled about the dress of the first one that came along, for above the skirt of purple silk was a Dolly Varden, all but the puffing out, of black silk, spotted over with white needlework. To top off all, this j.a.panee wore the funniest sort of a thing on the head, like a shiny black wash-bowl, with a hole in it, from which a stumpy black ball stuck up in the air--about the pertest-looking thing you ever saw. Around the edge was a white binding, all curlicued off with queer black figures, and a lot of stiff black stuff streamed down from behind, like a crow's tail.

This dress was tied round the waist with a silk scarf, and to that hung a long, black sword, sideways, with the point sticking out behind, furious as could be.

Only two of the j.a.panese were dressed in these frocks, figured off with white, with purple--well--skirts, under. Three others had thin purple--well--skirts, puckered up into baggy trousers, which showed off their peaked, hawk-bill shoes beautifully. These five high j.a.panese came marching one after another--Indian file--looking as solemn as eight-day clocks. Then came five more with black Dolly's, bound with purple, and with purple figures worked on the backs, and the underskirts puckered up into trousers. Every one of them had swords, and they all marched straight up to the President with them dangling by their sides.

"There, do you see that," whispered Cousin Dempster. "Are you satisfied now? Women do not, as a general thing, wear swords."