Round the World in Eighty Days Part 23

After traversing the European quarter, he entered the j.a.panese district, and made up his mind to push on to Yeddo if necessary.

The native quarter of Yokohama is called Benter, after the sea-G.o.ddess worshipped on the neighbouring islands. Here he noticed beautiful groves of fir and cedar; sacred gates of peculiar construction; bridges, enclosed by bamboos and reeds; and temples, surrounded by immense and melancholy-looking cedars, wherein Buddhist priests and votaries of Confucius resided. There were long streets with crowds of infants, who looked as if they were cut out of j.a.panese screens, and who were playing with bandy-legged poodles, and with yellow cats without tails, of a very lazy and very affectionate disposition.

The streets were crowded with people pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing: priests, policemen, custom-house officers, and soldiers--the Mikado's guard, in silken doublets and coats of mail, as well as other soldiers of all descriptions; for in j.a.pan the army is as much regarded as it is despised in China. There were friars, pilgrims with long robes, and civilians with long black hair, large heads, long waists, thin legs, and short of stature; with complexions, some copper-colour, some pale, but never yellow like the Chinese, from whom the j.a.panese differ essentially. Amongst the carriages, the palanquins, the barrows with sails, bamboo litters, he noticed many very pretty women moving about with tiny steps, on tiny feet, and shod with canvas shoes, with straw sandals and wooden clogs. They appeared to have small eyes, fiat chests, black teeth, according to fashion; but wearing gracefully the national robe called "kirimon," a sort of dressing-gown, crossed with a silk scarf and tied behind in a large knot, a mode which Parisian ladies have borrowed from the j.a.panese.

Pa.s.se-partout wandered about in the crowd for some hours, looking at the shops, at the glittering jewellers' establishments; the restaurants, which he could not enter; the tea-houses, where they drank "saki," a liquor made from the fermentation of rice; and comfortable-looking tobacco-shops, where they smoked, not opium, which is almost unknown in j.a.pan, but a fine tobacco. Thence he went on into the fields amongst the rice-plantations; there were flowers of all sorts, giving forth their last perfumes--beautiful camellias, not on bushes, but on trees; and bamboo enclosures, with cherry, plum, and apple trees, Which the natives cultivate rather for their blossom than their fruit. On almost every cedar-tree an eagle was perched, and on the willows were melancholy herons, standing on one leg; and crows, ducks, hawks, wild geese, and a quant.i.ty of cranes, which are looked upon as sacred by the j.a.panese, as conferring upon them long life and happiness.

As he wandered on, Pa.s.se-partout noted some violets amid the gra.s.s.

"Good," he said, "here is my supper;" but he found they were scentless.

"No chance there," he thought.

Certainly, as a precaution, he had taken care to have a good meal before he left the _Carnatic_, but after walking a whole day, he felt somewhat hungry. He had already remarked that the butchers' shops displayed neither mutton, pork, nor kids; and as he knew that it was forbidden to kill oxen, which are reserved for farming, he concluded that meat was scarce in j.a.pan. He was not mistaken, but he could have put up with wild boar even, partridges, quails, fish, or fowl, which the j.a.panese eat almost exclusively with rice. However, he kept his spirits up, and looked forward to a meal next day.

Night fell, and Pa.s.se-partout re-entered the native quarter, where he wandered through the streets in the midst of coloured lanterns, looking on at the conjurers, and at the astrologers, who had collected a crowd round their telescopes. Then he wandered back to the harbour, lighted up by the fishermen's torches.

At length the streets began to get empty, and to the crowd succeeded the patrols. These officers, in their splendid uniforms and followed by their attendants, looked like amba.s.sadors; and every time Pa.s.se-partout met one of these parties, he said to himself:

"Good, good; another j.a.panese emba.s.sy going to Europe."

CHAPTER XXIII.

In which Pa.s.se-partout's Nose gets immeasurably long.

Next morning, Pa.s.se-partout, very tired and very hungry, began to think that he ought to eat something, and the sooner the better. He still had his watch, which he could sell, but he would rather die of hunger than do that; so now or never, he must make use of his powerful, if not melodious, voice, with which nature had endowed him.

He knew several French and English songs, and resolved to make the attempt. The j.a.panese were no doubt fond of music, since they were always beating cymbals, tomtoms, and drums, and they would no doubt appreciate European talent.

But perhaps it was somewhat early to start a concert, and the _dilettanti_, awakened inopportunely, would not, perhaps, pay him in current coin of the realm. So Pa.s.se-partout decided to wait; and meantime it occurred to him that he might as well change his clothes for some more in keeping with his present position, and afterwards he might be able to purchase something to eat.

He immediately set about to carry out the idea, and after a long search he discovered a dealer in old clothes, with whom he made an exchange, and left the shop dressed in a j.a.panese robe and discoloured turban; but he had some money in his pocket also.

"All right," he thought; "I must only fancy myself at a carnival."

Pa.s.se-partout's first care was to enter a quiet-looking tea-house, and then, with a portion of fowl and some rice, he breakfasted like a man who had not yet solved the problem as to where dinner was to come from.

"Now," he thought, after a hearty meal, "I must consider what I am about. All I can do now is to sell this dress for another still more j.a.panesey. I must think of some means of quitting this Country of the Sun as quickly as possible, and I shall not have a very pleasant recollection of it."

He accordingly went to look at the steamers about to sail to America, for he intended to offer himself as a cook or steward, in exchange for his pa.s.sage and food. Once at San Francisco he would manage to get on.

The important thing was to cross the ocean. He was not the man to think about a thing very long, so he went at once to the docks; but his project, which had appeared so simple in idea, was not so easy to execute. What need was there for a cook or steward on board an American mail-boat? And how could they trust him in his present costume? What reference or recommendation could he offer?

As he was turning these questions over in his mind his gaze fell upon a placard, which a circus clown was carrying through the streets. The notice was in English, and read as follows:

THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM BATULCAR'S TROUPE OF j.a.pANESE ACROBATS.

POSITIVELY THE LAST REPRESENTATIONS, PRIOR TO THEIR DEPARTURE FOR AMERICA,

OF THE

LONG - NOSES - LONG - NOSES.

_Under the Special Patronage of the G.o.d Tingou._

GREAT ATTRACTION!

"The United States of America!" exclaimed Pa.s.se-partout; "that suits me all round."

He followed the "sandwich-man," and was soon in the j.a.panese quarter once again. In about a quarter of an hour they stopped before a large hut, adorned with flags, upon which a troupe of jugglers were depicted, without any attempt at perspective.

This was the establishment of the Honourable Mr. Batulcar, a sort of Barnum, a director of a troupe of acrobats and jugglers, who were giving their last representations, prior to their departure to the United States. Pa.s.se-partout entered and asked for the proprietor. Mr.

Batulcar appeared in person.

"What do you want?" he said to Pa.s.se-partout, whom he took for a native.

"Do you need a servant, sir?" asked Pa.s.se-partout.

"A servant!" echoed the Barnum, as he stroked his beard; "I have two, obedient and faithful, who have never left me, and serve me for nothing but nourishment; and here they are," he added, as he extended his brawny arms, on which the great veins stood out like whipcord.

"So I can be of no use to you, then?"

"Not the least."

"The devil! It would have been very convenient if I could have sailed with you."

"Ah, yes," said the Honourable Batulcar; "you are just about as much a j.a.panese as I am a baboon, I guess. What are you dressed up like that for?"

"One is obliged to dress as one can."

"That's a fact. You are a Frenchman, ain't you?"

"Yes; a Parisian."

"Then I suppose you know how to make grimaces?"

"Well," replied Pa.s.se-partout, somewhat vexed that his nationality should provoke such a question. "It is true that we Frenchmen do know how to make grimaces, but no better than Americans."

"That's so. Well, if I cannot take you as a servant I can engage you as a clown. You see, my lad, this is how it is: in France they exhibit foreign clowns, and in foreign countries French clowns."

"I see."