VIII
Togo at the Seashore
To Editor Good Housekeeper Magazine who know how cook delicious varieties of seashells.
Dear Mr.:—Among the fresh air at Sandflea Beach, Conn., employed by Hon. Mrs. & Mr. Liddbeater, I am no longer to be found at that address. If some one could find a seashore without an ocean attached to it I should be more happily to remain.
Nikkamura Japanese Employment Agcy send me there, where I arrive to smiling blue porch setting alonesome amid winds. The internals of that house resemble bleached almshouse, yet Hon. Mrs. Liddbeater say she were fortunate to obtain it in fashionable location price 200$ monthly.
“While by seashore we love the tough simplicity of life,” she snuggest with sweat-hearted expression. “We must pay expensively for our discomforts here, yet we are prideful to do so.”
“This place resemble Coney Island, yet less fashionable,” I report for compliment while observing girl-i-gig machinery on beach, candy, flirtatiousness and clams while Hon. Ocean bounce up suddenly making suds.
“It are splandid place to come for rest,” she report. “Now kindly to fetch 8 trunks upstairs, split wood, lynch hammock on porch, and deliver 14 buckets water from artizan well 11 blocks up street. When this are finished lunching can be prepare for 10, rugs beat, and ice-cream friz for party tonight.”
I thank her and feel sure I shall enjoy this vacation from work.
These Liddbeater family have got two (2) children of assorted sexes, age 17 & 18 respectfully. Eclaire are girl name and Oliver his. Both wear very giggling clothes and love to be engaged. She got Stanhope Whifflebudd, deliciously matinée boy, for hers, while Hon. Oliver obtain sweetheart attention from Hon. Bluebell Vawk, youngly lady of extreme tango.
All those frivolled young persons take rest by not doing so. Each evening they must attend Prof. Pffuster’s Waltzing Academy for more education in new Max Itch dance, which are all the enrage. Daytime they must enjoy tennis-play, walking, quarreling, and other excitements. Only time they remain quiet is when they go swimming, for this they can do by laying on beach under umburellas.
But when Fryday night arrive up my vacation become considerably more entangled. From out from depot emerge Hon. Mr. Liddbeater with tired business expression while reading Wall Street news from paper.
“Markets are decomposing rapidly while I am here,” he snuggest. “Unless I rest very laboriously I must go back to my unhealth.”
“What shall we do to make you feel entirely idle?” require entire family together like chorus-girls.
“At 4.06 tomorrow a.m. high tide shall arise and codfish will be biting viciously,” he say so. “Therefore we go fishing.”
Groans by all.
“Maybe you prefer to enjoy your seasickness alone,” renig Hon. Mrs. Madam with Pankhurst expression.
“Darling, I could not,” he reprieve. “I am determined to share my pleasures with my family. Therefore we arise upward at 3.30 to be prompt with hooks.”
That midnight was night for party where I friz ice-creams, served slight rabbits of Welsh birth, assisted chairs where tangos was jumping, play “Robt. E. Lee Polka” on pianola, and was otherwise considerable talented. By 2.26 I retire upwards to my box bedroom under cooked roof, where I remained outside my dreams till 3.31.
At 3.30 come tap-knock to door.
“What is it?” I require with startle.
“3.30!” holla Hon. Liddbeater voice out there. “Arise to go fish!”
“Do fish get up so early?” I ask to know.
“They bite best this hour,” he explain.
“I should also bite!” I snarrel.
“I do not pay you to make injurious comments,” he snudged while I hastily coat & pant myself for day labor.
All was there awaiting for breakfast with extreme appetite. When this devouring was finished Stanhope and Bluebell arrive up with flirtatious hats expected to attract fish.
“Togo,” demand Hon. Liddbeater like Napoleon, “while we fish you shall go along and whittle bait. Also prepare lunching for 10 and be very impromptu about it.”
I do so and we nextly go to shore where I must carry complete lunching including baby and umburella. Pretty soonly we arrive to detestable whaleboat being kept by salted gentleman resembling damaged admiral.
“Will this boat hold 12?” require Hon. Boss Man.
“So easily!” corrode Hon. Navy. “It were built for six.”
Therefore all was compressed in while we chug with gas-perfumery to central middle of ocean.
“I have feeling of slight squash,” narrate Hon. Bluebell when we were five miles among rolls.
“I hold your hand for it,” report Hon. Oliver, looking pale but poetic. He do not seem to accomplish much medicine by this. Hon. Bluebell become yet bluer.
All the ocean seem to tip up on one side as if it was going to spill into California. Something inside my interior stumack seem to speak of my dead ancestors. And look! Each stylish person of that cruise begin concealing their happiness by laying down on it. Groans. Yet Hon. Liddbeater continue to make happy cheek and smiling lip resembling Hon. Edw. Foy seeming comic.
At lastly he motion Hon. Salt Gentleman to choke his engine.
“This are the exact patch of waves where Thos Cod came to chew their cud,” he explaned. “Therefore, Hon. Capt. stop boat. Togo, while all other fishermans lay dying, you shall cut baits attractive to fish.”
“If convenient, Mr. Sir,” I bereft, “I should prefer to join the other groans.”
“Continue to fish-hook or I discharge you!” he dib.
“If you would discharge me back to shore I would bless you in Japanese,” I gargle. Yet he horribly threw me clams, unhappy mammals which I must amputate with dull knife while spearing them with disgustly hooks.
Hon. Liddbeater lit pipe of very enraged smell. Groans by all.
“Nothing like pipe-smoke while fishing!” he say for smiles.
“I notice,” is feebly voice from me.
Pretty soon Hon. Boss make electric movement with wet string. He bite pipe more cruelly while halling in one enraged cod who mock him with angry mouth.
“A beautiful fish!” he yellup joyly. “All see it!”
All those sicknesses report “Um” with unhappy nose.
“Are he not beautiful fish?” he ask it to me.
“Perhapsly when younger,” I disengage while holding my head on.
Of suddenly Hon. Mrs. Liddbeater arise upwards from pillows like a fried snake.
“For sake of your children,” repeat her, “I ask you to cease making clams and people and Japs and fish miserable for selfish joy of your depravity. Put us somewheres where we can run away.”
“Fishing cannot be accomplished by running away,” he deploy with Samurai expression. “I never depart off until I have caught 14.”
“O!!” yellup Eclaire looping beside Stanhope and looking less engaged than usual. “Drowning would be painless after this.”
“If you drowned I could save you,” dictate Stanhope looking very pale Yale.
“Any shipwreck would be welcome,” mone Oliver greenishly.
“Will nothing stop off your mulish fishing?” require Hon. Mrs. waking up from her death.
“Unless the boat sinks I shall stay remaining here until I catch 14,” he growell.
That ocean now look entirely double to me and I could feel my courage rolling around inside my lung.
“If the boat sink I be much obliged!” gaggle all together like chorus-girls in hospital.
“I know how!” I holla with suddenness of intelligence. “By preparing to swim you shall snub those 14 codfish!”
Thusly exclamming, I lept uply & grabb hammer where it layed sleeping beside lunch. With nimble ankles peculiar to heroes I jump to bung-plug in central middle of that boat. Whacks! Uply sprung plug quite corkishly and next came huj sprout of salt Atlantic approaching inside like giganterous fountain.
“Brainless species of mice!” reproach Hon. Mr. while attempting to brush out ocean with heel. Yet already Hon. Boat resemble bath-tub where all set in lake. Alarming wakefulness from seasickness was next to arrive and—before I could acknowledge—each person make flop-splash to water including me who was there amidst swimming while Hon. Boat turn over on his nose and float up-down.
I save Hon. Mrs. Liddbeater, lady of large tonnage but considerable floatage. Hon. Oliver save Hon. Bluebell. Hon. Liddbeater save himself. Hon. Eclair save Hon. Stanhope. Hon. Captain save Hon. Bottle. So everybody were quite comfortable, thank you, hooking their nails to stumack of that boat. But where was room for me? I continue onwards splashing doggishly.
“Why should it?” I holla with water-spouts. “I save you from sick-death and yet you will not support me on your floater.”
“Get off of!” snagger Hon. Mrs. giving me crude push with heel while I attemp to sclutch.
“Did I not stop fish-catch?” I bubble frogfully.
“We can be sifficiently miserable without you!” narrate Hon. Oliver while making water-polo across my head.
“You are discharged!” howell Hon. Liddbeater. “Report to my office in New York for your payment.”
I hear this ingratitude with extreme compression of soul. How difficult it are to be useful when not required to do so! Therefore I would snub them with my immediate departure.
Thinking thusly I struck offward in gen. direction of New York and when lastly seen I feel very free, although expecting to be drowned.
Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.