XIV
Togo Seeks Tea and Finds Tango
To Editor Good Housekeeping Magazine who must realize the extreme difficulty of keeping home dull,
Dear Sir:—I have leaped so continuously from jobs to jobs since you last heard from me that I am becoming a very talented bounder. The nearly last place to which I was attached rejected me away because of my extreme industry in sweeping carpets while company was there to sneeze. Boss Lady at that place was kind but brutal, so she give me following letter of recomment to quit with:
To Who This May Supply:—
This introduces our Mr. Togo (retired). If you want to see what a housemaid he is, try him. He is capable of anything. Please treat him like I did.
Mary L. Montfusser.
Next place where I took this note were home of Hon. Mrs. & Mr. Wm. Vanderbitt Jones, residing in very swollen location located near Aspic Falls, N. J. That neighborhood was so formula that it make me feel quite English while approaching up to it. I was included into rear entrance amid buttlers, where Hon. Mrs. Vanderbitt Jones, crystalized lady of expensive beauty, arrive there and require, “You unstand how serve tea?”
“Tea are favorite drunk of Japan,” I exaggerate pridefully. “It are served there with ceremony——”
“It are served here with tango,” she snib stylishly. “Did you ever learn how?”
“Never yet,” I nudge, “yet I can quickly learn to include that amid cream & sugar.”
“How irritated!” she snib while making her fingers touch her fashionable hairs. “Howeverly, since it is too late already, you must remain staying.”
A English buttler without any H in his words took me to long room and show me how pile up furniture and remove off all explosive glassware from table.
“Why you make so much removal?” I ask to know.
“When tea-drink begin they commence dance,” he acknowledge.
“Tea never make persons dance in Japan,” I snagger.
“It are only commencing to have that effect in America,” he explain. “But in 1914 it are fashionable to have it go to feet when swallowed.”
I were chewing this education with my brain when confused varieties of Smart Setters arrive up with enlarged limousine hacks and make ha-ha handshake including Vernon Castle expression.
I notice great absence of that stiff-souled dignity peculiar to Japanese Ambassadors when thirsty for Oolong. Everybody acted like a divorce and some ladies appeared considerable Geisha.
Hon. Mrs. Vanderbitt Jones stand by rugs, with flirting expression and say, “Howdy, Freddy,” whenever Newport clothing arrive up. Musical orchestra from behind palm-bushes commence play “O You Gabble Gabble Glide” and nobody could prevent misbehavior of feet. Considerable gentlemen then obtain seizure of considerable ladies and commence circulating with stride away expression of knees.
“If this is tea where is it?” I require from my soul. No answer as yet.
My eyes equaled Sherlock’s in search of that beveridge which should be there. I could not detect. No appearance of steepage, cup-saucer, sammyvar, or other tools for making that hot sip. Yet somewheres I could hear dice-box sound peculiar to small icebergs clattering together. O yes! I saw. Coyly concealing behind palm-bushes I observe considerable buttler shaking up tea in silver jigglers to include ice.
Pretty soonly lady & gentleman arrive up full of fatigues from so much slouchy-slouchy dance-step.
“We will take slight tea,” they dement from Hon. Buttler.
“What variety, please?” he require servantly.
“Martini,” snuggest those couple. Hon. Buttler pour. More pairs of persons emerge up. More shakes with ice. More gobbles. More dances.
Hon. Mrs. Vanderbitt Jones, formerly very clam-eye and Buckingham in her appearance of silk clothing, abruptly seize one smallish dance-gentleman and become more Geisha than all others collapsed together.
“It are tango who put the tease into tea,” renounce one gentleman-boy twirkling by with lady-girl.
“You are very Bernard Shaw today, Edgerley,” she report back with eyes. “Of formerly it used to be deliciously difficult to compel men & husbands to come to tea. Now you cannot keep them away with weapons. Why is that swift change?”
“When the tea goes out the tango’s in,” he define, attempting to wear wit under his moustache.
It was very hard science to describe this tango-waltz when I saw it, Mr. Editor. It are similar to a minuet danced by eels. Angry elbows seem to be slipping around everywheres while each ladies and gentlemen seem to be walking sidewise without intending to go there. Such chuckly movements of ducking away from music amid bounces! Such clutch and jolt containing great poetry! I could not unstand how persons could do this American jiu-jitsu without injurious breakage of their personality. And yet no ambulance was called.
While I stood thusly composing thoughts, Hon. Buttler walk to me with side-face moustache similar to Hon. Chauncey Depew when not joking.
“While you are doing nothing you should not stand idly around,” he dib.
“You wish me dance also?” I snuggest.
“I wish you to go to royal reception door downside and permit entrance to all calling guests.” This he say with voice so expensive I feel entirely bankrup.
So I go downside to reception door where I set long-time for lonesome company by the knob. Occasionately that music play so flirtatious that my feet misbehave. Pretty soonly came ring-ring to door. I admit. In come lengthwise gentleman with Woodrow Wilson expression and black-front necktie peculiar to clergy.
“What name, if any?” I ask to know. I made my voice show insults peculiar to fashion.
“I am Rev. Mr. Scornaway, of St. Lucre parish,” he deliver. “I have came to tea as usual on Wedsday.”
“This is no place for a clergy,” I dictate warnfully. “You can save your reputation by taking it away with you.”
“What do you mean by your meaning?” he snagger. “Do not Mrs. Vanderbitt Jones’s cards say Tea on Wedsday?”
“This are not the kind of Wedsday you think it is,” I abrupt.
“Poor benightied heathen!” he narrate. “Have I not been arriving here for tea for the last twenty (20) years since date when Hon. Cyrus J. Jones was President of National Distrust Co.? Have I not been here to talk church-work with elderly ladies while setting down amidst famus statesmen and talk on topics? Have I not met most greatest dignity in America within this house?”
“You will not meet them now,” I clabber, “or if so they will be doing something else.”
“Pleasantly permit me to pass inside,” he snarrel clergetically.
“O not to do!” I holla with Samurai knockles preventing his forthstepping. “If I relate what horror that tea is now doing you will not dare to go inside with your profession.”
“Tell me the entire!” he commit bravely.
“They are making tango!” I whasper with ears full of frights.
Hon. Rev. Mr. express great sternness in his jaws like a reformer fighting Indians.
“Let me get at them!” he growell.
“O joyful!” I acknowledge. “Then you are determined to stop it?”
“No!!” he gargle. “I am determined to dance it!!!”
I collapse backwards to setty chair and permit him to advance to middle of music. For 13 1-8 minutes I remained stationary attempting to fan away my faint. Then considerable bashido filled my forehead and I leapt to my footwear. Upstairs to dance-hall parlor I go. There, surrounded by sidesteps, hand-clasps, whirligig promenades, eye-gaze, romp, Vienna tunes and acrobats I observed Hon. Rev. Mr. circulating in clutch with Mrs. Vanderbitt Jones. Determinely I advance to middle of and stand befront them.
“Hon. Mrs. Madam, if conveniently—” I commence to be interrupted.
“What is?” she require, continuing to circulate.
I am obliged to make delicious dance-motions so I can keep up, yet I pursue near her.
“If convenient I quit,” is reprove for me. I must now double three loops and whirl my arms bias to remain next.
“Why you don’t quit without application to me?” she ask it while 2-stepping.
“I wish tell you my feelings before departure,” I reject while gliding my feet onwards and twining my chest in stroggle to follow her closely. “I shall not be a servant in such a fidgetty home. I shock! What is becaming of America? Instead of sipping tea, as formerly, they dance it. Instead of enjoying sociability with brain they do it with feet. They act midnight at five o’clock. Preachers come to preach and stay to prance. Therefore, I remove myself to some other jobs.”
“Jeems!” Hon. Mrs. holla to Hon. Buttler, yet still continue fantango whirling, “here are Japanese schoolboy who should be discharged to music. Tango him down back steps.”
Nextly I knew I were embraced by that tense Englishman without any H in his voice. While music burst up into runaway tune, Hon. Buttler show me tango so rapidly I did not know my ears from my knuckles. O such musical scuttle-step, back-walk, elbow-jounce, and twist-vine movement towards outside side of house! And there I suddenly arrived followed by orchestra-sound including kick.
So I 1-step away with bursted gracefulness peculiar to lame duck.
Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.