One day while sitting at table, with our little girl, nineteen months old, on her mother's knee near by, we picked up her rubber doll and began to whip it violently. The child first looked frightened, then severe, then burst into tears and plead with her mother not to "let papa whip dolly."
Few people realize how much toys become a part of the life of the children who play with them. They are often looked upon as nothing more than "playthings for children." This is a very narrow view of their uses and relationships. There is a philosophy underlying the production of toys as old as the world and as broad as life, a philosophy which, until recent years, has been little studied and cultivated.
Playthings are as necessary a constituent of human life as food or medicine, and contribute in a like manner to the health and development of the race. Like the science of cooking and healing, the business of toy-making has been driven by the stern teacher, necessity, to a rapid self-development for the general good of the little men and women in whose interests they are made.
They are the tools with which children ply their trades; the instruments with which they carry on their professions; the goods which they buy and sell in their business, and the paraphernalia with which they conduct their toy society. They are more than this. They are the animals which serve them, the associates who entertain them, the children who comfort them and bring joy to the mimic home.
Toys are nature's first teachers. The child with his little shovels, spades and hoes, learns his first lessons in agriculture; with his hammer and nails, he gets his first lessons in the various trades; and the bias of the life of many a child of larger growth has come from the toys with which he played. Into his flower garden the father of Linnaeus introduced his son during his infancy, and "this little garden undoubtedly created that taste in the child which afterwards made him the first botanist and naturalist of his age, if not of his race."
No experiments in any chemical laboratory will excite more wonder or be carried on with more interest, than those which the boy performs with his pipe and basin of soapy water. The little girl's mud pies and other sham confectionery furnish her first lessons in the art of preparing food. Her toy dinners and playhouse teas offer her the first experiences in the entertainment of guests. With her dolls, the domestic relations and affections.
No science has ever originated and been carried to any degree of perfection in Asia. There is no reason why this statement should cause the noses of Europeans and Americans to twitch in derision and pride, for there is another fact equally momentous in favor of the Asiatics,—viz., no religion that originated outside of Asia has ever been carried to any degree of perfection.
The above facts will indicate that we need not hope to find the business of toy-making, or the science of child-education in a very advanced state in China—the most Asiatic country of Asia. Child's play and toy-making have been organized into a business and a science in Europe, as astronomy, which had been studied so long in Asia, was developed into a science by the Greeks. And so we find that what is taught in the kindergarten of the West is learned in the streets of the East; and the toys which are manufactured in great Occidental business establishments, are made by poor women in Oriental homes, and the same mistakes are made by the one as by the other.
The same whistle by which the cock crows, enables the dog to bark, the baby to cry, the horse to neigh, the sheep to bleat and the cow to low, just as in our own rubber goods. The same end is accomplished in the one case as in the other. The two, three or twenty cash doll does for the Chinese girl what the two, three or twenty dollar one does for her antipodal sister,—develops the instinct of motherhood, besides standing a greater amount of rough handling. Nevertheless it usually comes to the same deplorable end, departing this world, bereft of its arms and legs, without going through the tedious process of a surgical operation.
Chinese toys are less varied, less complicated, less true to the original, and less expensive than those of the West,—more perhaps like the toys of a century or two ago. Nevertheless they are toys, and in the hands of boys and girls, the drum goes "rub-a-dub," the horn "toots," and the whistle squeaks. The "gingham dog and calico cat," besides a score of other animals more nearly related to the soil of their native place—being made of clay—express themselves in the language of the particular whistle which happens to have been placed within them. All this is to the entire satisfaction of "little Miss Muffet" and "little boy Blue," just as they do in other lands.
When the children grow older they have tops to spin that whistle as good a whistle, and buzzers to buzz that buzz as good a buzz, and music balls to roll, and music carts to pull, that emit sounds as much to their satisfaction, as anything that ministered to the childish tastes of our grandfathers; and these become as much a part of their business and their life as if they were living, talking beings. Furthermore, their dolls are as much their children as they themselves are the offspring of their parents.
Chinese toys embrace only those which involve no intricate scientific principles. The music boxes of the West are unknown in China except as they are imported. The Chinese know nothing about dolls which open and shut their eyes, simple as this principle is, nor of toys which are self-propelling by some mysterious spring secreted within, because, forsooth, they know nothing about making the spring.
There are some principles, however, which, though they may not understand, they are nevertheless able to utilize; such, for instance, as the expansion of air by heat, and the creation of air currents. This principle is utilized in lanterns. In the top of these is a paper wheel attached to a cross-bar on the ends of which are suspended paper men and women together with animals of all kinds making a very interesting merry-go-round. These lantern-figures correspond to the sawyers, borers, blacksmiths, washers and others which twenty or more years ago were on top of the stove of every corner grocery or country post-office.
When we began the study of Chinese toys our first move was to call in a Chinese friend whom we thought we could trust, and who could buy toys at a very reasonable rate, and sent him out to purchase specimens of every variety of toys he could find in the city of Peking. We ordered him the first day to buy nothing but rattles, because the rattle is the first toy that attracts the attention of the child.
In the evening Mr. Hsin returned with a good-sized basket full of rattles. Some were tin in the form of small cylinders, with handles in which were small pebbles: others were shaped like pails; and others like cooking pots and pans.
Some of the most attractive were hollow wood balls, baskets, pails and bottles, gorgeously painted, with long handles, necks, or bails. The paint was soon transferred from the face of the toy to that of the first child that happened to play with it, which child was of course, our own little girl.
The most common rattles representing various kinds of fowls and animals known and unknown are made of clay. Others are in the form of fat little priests that make one think of Santa Claus, or little roly-poly children that look like the little folks who play with them.
As the child grows larger the favorite rattle is a drum-shaped piece of bamboo or other wood, with skin—not infrequently fish skin, stretched over the two ends, and a long handle attached. On the sides are two stout strings with beads on the ends, which, when the rattle is turned in the hand, strike on the drum heads. These rattles of brass or tin as well as bamboo, are in imitation of those carried by street hawkers.
We said to Mr. Hsin, "Foreigners say the Chinese do not have dolls, how is that?"
"They have lots of them," he answered in the stereotyped way.
"Then to-morrow buy samples of all the dolls you can find."
"All?" he asked with some surprise.
"Yes, all. We want to know just what kind of dolls they have."
The next evening Mr. Hsin came in with an immense load of dolls. He had large, small, and middle sized rag dolls, on which the nose was sewed, the ears pasted, and the eyes and other features painted. They were rude, but as interesting to children as other more natural and more expensive ones, as we discovered by giving one of them to our little girl. In not a few instances Western children have become much more firmly attached to their Chinese cloth dolls than any that can be found for them in America or Europe.
He had a number of others both large and small with paper mache heads, leather bodies, and clay arms and legs. The body was like a bellows in which a reed whistle was placed, that enabled the baby to cry in the same tone as the toy dog barks or the cock crows. They had "real hair" in spots on their head similar to those on the child, and they were dressed in the same kind of clothing as that used on the baby in summer-time, viz., a chest-protector and a pair of shoes or trousers.
Mr. Hsin then took out a small package in which was wrapped a half-dozen or more "little people," as they are called, by the Chinese, with paper heads, hands and feet, exquisitely painted, and their clothing of the finest silk. Attached to the head of each was a silk string by which the "little people" are hung upon the wall as a decoration.
"But what are these, Mr. Hsin?" we asked. "These are not dolls."
"No," he answered, "these are cloth animals. The children play with these at the same time they play with dolls."
He had gone beyond our instructions. He had brought us a large collection of camels made of cloth the color of the camel's skin, with little bunches of hair on the head, neck, hump and the joints of the legs, similar to those on the camel when it is shedding its coat in the springtime. He had elephants made of a grayish kind of cloth on which were harnesses similar to those supposed to be necessary for those animals. He had bears with bits of hair on neck and tail and a leading string in the nose; horses painted with spots of white and red, matched only by the most remarkable animals in a circus; monkeys with black beads for eyes, and long tails; lions, tigers, and leopards, with large, savage, black, glass eyes, with manes or tails suited to each, and properly crooked by a wire extending to the tip. And finally he laid the bogi-boo, a nondescript with a head on each end much like the head of a lion or tiger. When not used as a plaything, this served the purpose of a pillow.
"Do the Chinese have no other kinds of toy animals?" we inquired.
"Yes," he answered, "I'll bring them to-morrow."
The following evening he brought us a collection of clay toys too extensive to enumerate. There were horses, cows, camels, mules, deer, and a host of others the original of which has never been found except in the imagination of the people. He had women riding donkeys followed by drivers, men riding horses and shooting or throwing a spear at a fleeing tiger, and women with babies in their arms while grandmother amused them with rattles, and father lay near by smoking an opium pipe.
From the bottom of his basket he brought forth a nuber of small packages.
"What are in those?"
"These are clay insects."
They were among the best clay work we have seen in China. There were tumble-bugs, grasshoppers, large beetles, mantis, praying mantis, toads and scorpions, together with others never seen outside of China, and some never seen at all, the legs and feelers all being made of wire.
In another package he had a dozen dancing dolls. They were made of clay, were an inch and a half long, dressed with paper, and had small wires protruding the sixteenth of an inch below the bottom of the skirt. He put them all on a brass tray, the edge of which he struck with a small stick to make it vibrate, thus causing the dancers to turn round and round in every direction.
The next package contained a number of clay beggars. Two were fighting, one about to smash his clay pot over the other's head: another had his pot on his head for a lark, a third was eating from his, while others were carrying theirs in their hand. One had a sore leg to which he called attention with open mouth and pain expressed in every feature.
From another package he brought out a number of jumping jacks, imitations as it seemed of things Japanese. There were monkey acrobats made of clay, wire and skin, fastened to a small slip of bamboo. A doll fastened to a stick, with cymbals in its hands would clash the cymbals, when its queue was pulled. Finally there was a large dragon which satisfied its raging appetite by feeding upon two or three little clay men specially prepared for his consumption.
But, perhaps, among the most interesting of his toys were his clay whistles. Some of these burnt or sun-dried toys were hollow and in the shape of birds, beasts and insects. When blown into, they would emit the shrillest kind of a whistle. In others a reed whistle had been placed similar to those in the dolls, and these usually had a bellows to blow them. Whether cock or hen, dog or child, they all crowed, barked, cackled, or cried in the self-same tone.
"What will you get to-morrow?"
"Drums, knives, and tops," said Mr. Hsin. He was being paid by the day for spending our money, and so had his plans well laid.
The following evening he brought a large collection of toy drums, some of which were in the shape of a barrel, both in their length and in being bulged out at the middle. On the ends were painted gay pictures of men and women clad in battle-array or festive garments, making the drum a work of art as well as an instrument of torture to those who are disturbed by noises about the house.
He had large knives covered with bright paint which could easily be washed off, and tridents, with loose plates or cymbals, which make a noise to frighten the enemy.
The tops Mr. Hsin had collected were by far the most interesting. Chinese tops are second to none made. They are simple, being made of bamboo, are spun with a string, and when properly operated emit a shrill whistle.
The ice top, without a stem, and simply a block of wood in shape of a top, is spun with a string, but is kept going by whipping.
Another toy which foreigners call a top is entirely different from anything we see in the West. The Chinese call it a K'ung chung, while the top is called t'o lo. It is constructed of two pieces of bamboo, each of which is made like a top, and then joined by a carefully turned axle, each end being of equal weight, and looking not unlike the wheels of a cart. It is then spun by a string, which is wound once around the axle and attached to two sticks. A good performer is able to spin it in a great variety of ways, tossing it under and over his foot, spinning it with the sticks behind him, and at times throwing it up into the air twenty or thirty feet and catching it as it comes down. The principle upon which it is operated is the quick jerking of one of the sticks while the other is allowed to be loose.
"To-morrow," said Mr. Hsin, as he ceased spinning the top, "I will get you some toy carts."
The Chinese cart has been described as a Saratoga trunk on two wheels. This is, however, only one form—that of the passenger cart. There are many others, and all of them are used as patterns of toy carts. They all have a kind of music-box attachment, operated by the turning of the axle to which the wheels of the toys, as well as those of some of the real carts, are fixed.
The toy carts are made of tin, wood and clay. Some of them are very simple, having paper covers, while others possess the whole paraphernalia of the street carts. When the mule of the toy cart is unhitched and unharnessed, he looks like a very respectable mule. Nevertheless, instead of devouring food, he becomes the prey of insects. Usually he appears the second season, if he lasts that long, bereft of mane and tail, as well as a large portion of his skin.
The flat carts have a revolving peg sticking up through the centre, on which a small clay image is placed which turns with the stick. Others are placed on wires on the two sides, to represent the driver and the passengers.
These in Peking are the omnibus carts. Running from the east gate of the Imperial city to the front gate, and in other parts of the city as well, there are street carts corresponding to the omnibus or street cars of the West. These start at intervals of ten minutes, more or less, with eight or ten persons on a cart, the fare being only a few cash. Toy carts of this kind have six or eight clay images to represent the passengers.
Mr. Hsin brought out from the bottom of his basket a number of neatly made little pug dogs, and pressing upon a bellows in their body caused them to bark, just as the hen cackled a few days before.
What we have described formed only a small portion of the toys Mr. Hsin brought. Cheap clay toys of all kinds are hawked about the street by a man who sells them at a fifth or a tenth of a cent apiece. With him is often found a candy-blower, who with a reed and a bowl of taffy-candy is ready to blow a man, a chicken, a horse and cart, a corn ear, or anything else the child wants, as a glass-blower would blow a bottle or a lamp chimney. The child plays with his prize until he tires of it and then he eats it.
It was on a bright spring afternoon that a Chinese official and his little boy called at our home on Filial Piety Lane, in Peking.
The dresses of father and child were exactly alike—as though they had been twins, boots of black velvet or satin, blue silk trousers, a long blue silk garment, a waistcoat of blue brocade, and a black satin skullcap—the child was in every respect, even to the dignity of his bearing, a vest-pocket edition of his father.
He had a T'ao of books which I recognized as the Fifteen Magic Blocks, one of the most ingenious, if not the most remarkable, books I have ever seen.
A T'ao is two or any number of volumes of a book wrapped in a single cover. In this case it was two volumes. In the inside of the cover there was a depression three inches square in which was kept a piece of lead, wood or pasteboard, divided into fifteen pieces as in the following illustration.
These blocks are all in pairs except one, which is a rhomboid. They are all exactly proportional, having their sides either half-inch, inch, inch and a half, or two inches in length.
They are not used as are the blocks in our kindergarten simply to make geometrical figures, but rather to illustrate such facts of history as will have a moral influence, or be an intellectual stimulus to the child.
He may build houses with them, or make such ancient or modern ornaments, or household utensils, as may suit his fancy; but the primary object of the blocks and the books, is to impress upon the child's mind, in the most forcible way possible, the leading facts of history, poetry, mythology or morals; while the houses, boats and other things are simply side issues.
The first illustration the child constructed for me, for I desired him to teach me how it was done, was a dragon horse, and when I asked him to explain it, he said that it represented the animal seen by Fu Hsi, the original ancestor of the Chinese people, emerging from the Meng river, bearing upon its back a map on which were fifty-five spots, representing the male and female principles of nature, and which the sage used to construct what are called the eight diagrams.
The child tossed the blocks off into a pile and then constructed a tortoise which he said was seen by Yu, the Chinese Noah, coming out of the Lo river, while he was draining off the floods. On its back was a design which he used as a pattern for the nine divisions of his empire.
These two incidents are referred to by Confucius, and are among the first learned by every Chinese child.
I looked through the book and noticed that many of the designs were for the amusement of the children, as well as to develop their ingenuity. In the two volumes of the T'ao he had only the outlines of the pictures which he readily constructed with the blocks. But he had with him also a small volume which was a key to the designs having lines indicating how each block was placed. This he had purchased for a few cash. Much of the interest of the book, however, attached to the puzzling character of the pictures.
There was one with a verse attached somewhat like the following:
The old wife drew a chess-board
On the cover of a book,
While the child transformed a needle
Into a fishing-hook.
Chinese literature is full of examples of men and women who applied themselves to their books with untiring diligence. Some tied their hair to the beam of their humble cottage so that when they nodded with sleepiness the jerk would awake them and they might return to their books.
Others slept upon globular pillows that when they became so restless as to move and cause the pillow to roll from under their head they might get up and study.
The child once more took the blocks and illustrated how one who was so poor as to be unable to furnish himself with candles, confined a fire-fly in a gauze lantern using that instead of a lamp. At the same time he explained that another who was perhaps not able to afford the gauze lantern, studied by the light of a glowworm.
"K'ang Heng," said the child, as he put the blocks together in a new form, "had a still better way, as well as more economical. His house was built of clay, and as the window of his neighbor's house was immediately opposite, he chiseled a hole through his wall and thus took advantage of his neighbor's light.
"Sun K'ang's method was very good for winter," continued the child as he rearranged the blocks, "but I do not know what he would do in summer. He studied by the light reflected from the snow.
"Perhaps," he went on as he changed the form, "he followed the example of another who studied by the pale light of the moon."
"What does that represent?" I asked him pointing to a child with a bowl in his hand who looked as if he might have been going to the grocer's.
"Oh, that boy is going to buy wine."
The Chinese have never yet realized what a national evil liquor may become. They have little wine shops in the great cities, but they have no drinking houses corresponding to the saloon, and it is not uncommon to see a child going to the wine shop to fetch a bowl of wine. The Buddhist priest indulges with the same moderation as the official class or gentry. Indeed most of the drunkenness we read about in Chinese books is that of poets and philosophers, and in them it is, if not commended, at least not condemned. The attitude of literature towards them is much like that of Thackeray towards the gentlemen of his day.
The child constructed the picture of a Buddhist priest, who, with staff in hand, and a mug of wine, was viewing the beautiful mountains in the distance. He then changed it to one in which an intoxicated man was leaning on a boy's shoulder, the inscription to which said: "Any one is willing to assist a drunken man to return home."
"This," he went on as he changed his blocks, "is a picture of Li Pei, China's greatest poet. He lived more than a thousand years ago. This represents the closing scene in his life. He was crossing the river in a boat, and in a drunken effort to get the moon's reflection from the water, he fell overboard and was drowned." The child pointed to the sail at the same time, repeating the following:
The sail being set,
He tried to get,
The moon from out the main.
I noticed a large number of boat scenes and induced the child to construct some of them for me, which he was quite willing to do, explaining them as he went as readily as our children would explain Old Mother Hubbard or the Old Woman who Lived in her Shoe, by seeing the illustrations.
Constructing one he repeated a verse somewhat like the following:
Alone the fisherman sat,
In his boat by the river's brink,
In the chill and cold and snow,
To fish, and fish, and think.
Then he turned over to two on opposite pages, and as he constructed them he repeated in turn:
In a stream ten thousand li in length
He bathes his feet at night,
While on a mount he waves his arms,
Ten thousand feet in height.
The ten thousand li in one couplet corresponds to the ten thousand feet in the other, while the bathing of the feet corresponds to the waving of the arms. Couplets of this kind are always attractive to the Chinese child as well as to the scholar, and poems and essays are replete with such constructions.
The child enjoyed making the pictures. I tried to make one, but found it very difficult. I was not familiar with the blocks. It is different now, I have learned how to make them. Then it seemed as if it would be impossible ever to do so. When I had failed to make the picture I turned them over to him. In a moment it was done.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"Chang Ch'i, the poet," he answered. "Whenever he went for a walk he took with him a child who carried a bag in which to put the poems he happened to write. In this illustration he stands with his head bent forward and his hands behind his back lost in thought, while the lad stands near with the bag."
We have given in another chapter the story of the great traveller, Chang Ch'ien, and his search for the source of the Yellow River.
In one of the illustrations the child represented him in his boat in a way not very different from that of the artist.
Another quotation from one of the poets was illustrated as follows:
Last night a meeting I arranged,
Ere I my lamp did light,
Nor while I crossed the ferry feared,
Or wind or rain or night.
The child's eyes sparkled as he turned to some of those illustrating children at play, and as he constructed one which represents two children swinging their arms and running, he repeated:
See the children at their play,
Gathering flowers by the way.
"They are gathering pussy-willows," he added.
In another he represented a child standing before the front gate, where he had knocked in vain to gain admission. As he completed it he said, pointing to the apricot over the door:
Ten times he knocked upon the gate,
But nine, they opened not,
Above the wall he plainly saw,
A ripe, red apricot.
He continued to represent quotations from the poets and explain them as he went along.
There was one which indicated that some one was ascending the steps to the jade platform on which the dust had settled as it does on everything in Peking; at the same time the verse told us that
Step by step we reach the platform,
All of jade of purest green,
Call a child to come and sweep it,
But he cannot sweep it clean.
"You know," he went on, "the cottages of many of the poets were near the beautiful lakes in central China, in the wild heights of the mountains, or upon the banks of some flowing stream. In this one the pavilion of the poet is on the bank of the river, and we are told that,
In his cottage sat the poet
Thinking, as the moon went by,
That the moonlight on the water,
Made the water like the sky."
Changing it somewhat he made a cottage of a different kind. This was not made for the picture's sake, but to illustrate a sentence it was designed to impress upon the child's mind. The quotation is somewhat as follows:
The ringing of the evening bells,
The moon a crescent splendid,
The rustling of the swallow's wings
Betoken winter ended.
The child looked up at me significantly as he turned to one which represented a Buddhist priest. I expected something of a joke at the priest's expense as in the nursery rhymes and games, but there was none. That would injure the sale of the book. The inscription told us that "a Buddhist lantern will reflect light enough to illuminate the whole universe."
Turning to the next page we found a priest sitting in front of the temple in the act of beating his wooden drum, while the poet exclaims:
O crystal pool and silvery moon,
So clear and pure thou art,
There's nought to which thou wilt compare
Except a Buddha's heart.
The child next directed our attention to various kinds of flowers, more especially the marigold. A man in a boat rows with one hand while he points backward to the blossoming marigold, while in another picture the poet tells us that,
Along the eastern wall,
We pluck the marigold,
While on the south horizon,
The mountain we behold.
"What is that?" I asked as he turned to a picture of an old man riding on a cow.
"That is Laotze, the founder of Taoism, crossing the frontier at the Han Ku Pass between Shansi and Shensi, riding upon a cow. Nobody knows where he went."
There were other pictures of Taoist patriarchs keeping sheep. By their magic power they turned the sheep into stones when they were tired watching them, and again the inscriptions told us, "the stones became sheep at his call." Still others represented them in search of the elixir of life, while in others they were riding on a snail.
The object of thus bringing in incidents from all these Buddhist, Taoist, Confucian, and other sources is that by catering to all classes the book may have wide distribution, and whatever the Confucianist may say, it must be admitted that the other religions have a strong hold upon the popular mind.
The last twenty-six illustrations in Vol. I represent various incidents in the life, history and employments of women.
The first of these is an ancient empress "weaving at night by her palace window."
Another represents a woman in her boat and we are told that, "leaving her oar she leisurely sang a song entitled, 'Plucking the Caltrops.'"
Another represents a woman "wearing a pomegranate-colored dress riding a pear-blossom colored horse." A peculiar combination to say the least.
The fisherman's wife is represented in her boat, "making her toilet at dawn using the water as a mirror." While we are assured also that the woman sitting upon her veranda "finds it very difficult to thread her needle by the pale light of the moon," which fact, few, I think, would question.
In one of the pictures "a beautiful maiden, in the bright moonlight, came beneath the trees." This is evidently contrary to Chinese ideas of propriety, for the Classic for girls tells us that a maiden should not go out at night except in company with a servant bearing a lantern. As it was bright moonlight, however, let us hope she was excusable.
This sauntering about in the court is not uncommon if we believe what the books say, for in the next picture we are told that:
As near the middle summer-house,
The maiden sauntered by,
Upon the jade pin in her hair
There lit a dragon-fly.
The next illustration represented the wife of the famous poet Ssu-Ma Hsiang-Ju in her husband's wine shop.
This poet fell in love with the widowed daughter of a wealthy merchant, the result of which was that the young couple eloped and were married; and as the daughter was disinherited by her irate parent, she was compelled to wait on customers in her husband's wine shop, which she did without complaint. In spite of their imprudent conduct, and for the time, its unhappy results, as soon as the poet had become so famous as to be summoned to court, the stern father relented, and, as it was a case of undoubted affection, which the Chinese readily appreciate they have always had the sympathy of the whole Chinese people.
One of the most popular women in Chinese history is Mu Lan, the A Chinese Joan of Arc. Her father, a great general, being too old to take charge of his troops, and her brothers too young, she dressed herself in boy's clothing, enrolled herself in the army, mounted her father's trusty steed, and led his soldiers to battle, thus bringing honor to herself and renown upon her family.
We have already seen how diligent some of the ancient worthies were in their study. This, however, is not universal, for we are told the mother of Liu Kung-cho, in order to stimulate her son to study took pills made of bear's gall and bitter herbs, to show her sympathy with her boy and lead him to feel that she was willing to endure bitterness as well as he.
The last of these examples of noble women is that of the wife of Liang Hung, a poor philosopher of some two thousand years ago. An effort was made to engage him to Meng Kuang, the daughter of a rich family, whose lack of beauty was more than balanced by her remarkable intelligence. The old philosopher feared that family pride might cause domestic infelicity. The girl on her part steadfastly refused to marry any one else, declaring that unless she married Liang Hung, she would not marry at all. This unexpected constancy touched the old man's heart and he married her. She dressed in the most common clothing, always prepared his food with her own hand, and to show her affection and respect never presented him with the rice-bowl without raising it to the level of her eyebrows, as in the illustration.
It may be interesting to see some of the ornaments and utensils the child made with his blocks. I shall therefore add three, a pair of scissors, a teapot, and a seal with a turtle handle.
Such is in general the character of the book the official's little boy had with him. I afterwards secured several copies for myself and learned to make all the pictures first shown me by the child, and I discovered that it is but one of several forms of what we may call kindergarten work, that it has gone through many editions, and is very widely distributed. My own set contains 216 illustrations such as I have given.
My little girl came running into my study greatly excited and exclaiming:
"Papa, the monkey show, the monkey show. We want the monkey show, may we have it?"
Now if you had but one little girl, and she wanted a monkey show to come into your own court and perform for her and her little friends for half an hour, the cost of which was the modest sum of five cents, what would you do?
You would do as I did, no doubt, go out with the little girl, call in the passing showman and allow him to perform, which would serve the triple purpose of furnishing relaxation and instruction for yourself, entertainment for the children, and business for the showman.
This however proved to be not the monkey show but Punch and Judy, a species of entertainment for children, the exact counterpart of our own entertainment of that name. It may be of interest to young readers to know how this show originated, and I doubt not it will be a surprise to some older ones to know that it dates back to about the year 1000 B. C.
We are told that while the Emperor Mu of the Chou dynasty was making a tour of his empire, a skillful mechanic, Yen Shih by name, was brought into his presence and entertained him and the women of his seraglio with a dance performed by automaton figures, which were capable not only of rhythmical movements of their limbs, but of accompanying their movements with songs.
During and at the close of the performance, the puppets cast such significant glances at the ladies as to anger the monarch, and he ordered the execution of the originator of the play.
The mechanic however ripped open the puppets, and proved to his astonished majesty that they were only artificial objects, and instead of being executed he was allowed to repeat his performance. This was the origin of the play in China which corresponds to Punch and Judy in Europe and America.
To the question which naturally arises as to how the play was carried to the West, I reply, it may not have been carried to Europe at all, but have originated there. From marked similarities in the two plays however, and more especially in the methods of their production, we may suppose that the Chinese Punch and Judy was carried to Europe in the following way:
Among the many traders who visited Central Asia while it was under the government of the family of Genghis Khan, were two Venetian brothers, Maffeo and Nicolo Polo, whose wondering disposition and trading interests led them as far as the court of the Great Khan, where they remained in the most intimate relations with Kublai for some time, and were finally sent back to Italy with a request that one hundred European scholars be sent to China to instruct them in the arts of Europe.
This request was never carried out, but the two returned to the Khan's court with young Marco, the son of one of them, who remained with the Mongol Emperor for seventeen years, during which time he had a better opportunity of observing their customs than perhaps any other foreigner since his time. His final return to Italy was in 1295, and a year or two later, he wrote and revised his book of travels.
The art of printing in Europe was discovered in 1438, and the first edition of Marco Polo's travels was printed about 1550-59. Our Punch and Judy was invented by Silvio Fiorillo an Italian dramatist before the year 1600. I have found no reference to the play in Marco Polo's works, nevertheless, one cannot but think that, if not a written, at least an oral, communication of the play may have been carried to Europe by him or some other of the Italian traders or travellers. The two plays are very similar, even to the tones of the man who works the puppets.
In passing the school court on one occasion I saw the students gathered in a crowd under the shade of the trees. A small tent was pitched, on the front of which was a little stage. A manager stood behind the screen from which position he worked a number of puppets in the form of men, women, children, horses and dragons. These were suspended by black threads as I afterwards discovered from small sticks or a framework which the manager manipulated behind the screen. When one finished its part of the performance, it either walked off the stage, or the stick was fastened in such a way as to leave it in a position conducive to the amusement of the crowd. These were puppet shows, and were put through entire performances or plays, the manager doing the talking as in Punch and Judy.
After the performance several of the students passed around the hat, each person present giving one-fifth or one-tenth of a cent.
As I came from school one afternoon, the children had called in from the street a showman with a number of trained mice. He had erected a little scaffolding just inside the gateway, at one side of which there was a small rope ladder, and this with the inevitable gong, and the small boxes in which the mice were kept constituted his entire outfit.
In the boxes he had what seemed to be cotton from the milk-weed which furnished a nest for the mice. These he took from their little boxes one by one, stroked them tenderly, while he explained what this particular mouse would do, put each one on the rope ladder, which they ascended, and performed the tricks expected of them. These were going through a pagoda, drawing water, creeping through a tube, wearing a criminal's collar, turning a tread-mill, or working some other equally simple trick.
At times the mice had to be directed by a small stick in the hands of the manager, but they were carefully trained, kindly treated, and much appreciated by the children.
Although less attractive, there is no other show which impresses itself so forcibly on the child's mind as the monkey, dog and sheep show.
The dog was the first to perform. Four hoops were placed on the corners of a square, ten feet apart. The dog walked around through these hoops, first through each in order, then turning went through each twice, then through one and retracing his steps went through the one last passed through.
The showman drove an iron peg in the ground on which were two blocks representing millstones. To the upper one was a lever by which the dog with his nose turned the top millstone as if grinding flour. He was hitched to a wheelbarrow, the handles of which were held by the monkey, who pushed while the dog pulled.
The most interesting part of the performance, however, was by the monkey. Various kinds of hats and false faces were kept in a box which he opened and secured. He stalked about with a cane in his hand, or crosswise back of his neck, turned handsprings, went through various trapeze performances, such as hanging by his legs, tail, chin, and hands, or was whirled around in the air.
The leading strap of the monkey was finally tied to the belt of the sheep which was led away to some distance and let go. The monkey bounded upon its back and held fast to the wool, while the sheep ran with all its speed to the showman, who held a basin of broom-corn seed as a bait. This was repeated as often as the children desired, which ended the show. Time,—half an hour; spectators,—all who desired to witness it; price,—five cents.
The showmen in China are somewhat like the tramps and beggars in other countries. When they find a place where there are children who enjoy shows, each tells the other, and they all call around in turn.
Our next show was an exhibition given by a man with a trained bear.
The animal had two rings in his nose, to one of which was fastened a leading string or strap, and to the other, while performing, a large chain. A man stood on one end of the chain, and the manager, with a long-handled ladle, or with his hand, gave the bear small pieces of bread or other food after each trick he performed.
The first trick was walking on his hind feet as if dancing. But more amusing than this to the children was to see him turn summersaults both forward and backward. These were repeated several times because they were easily done, and added to the length of time the show continued.
Children, however, begin to appreciate at an early age what is difficult and what easy, and it was not until he took a carrying-pole six feet long, put the middle of it upon his forehead and set it whirling with his paws, that they began to say:
"That's good," "That's hard to do," and other expressions of a like nature.
They enjoyed seeing him stand on his front feet, or on his head with his hind feet kicking the air, but they enjoyed still more seeing him put on the wooden collar of a convict and twirl it around his neck. The manager gave him some bread and then tried to induce him to take it off, but he whined for more bread and refused to do so. Finally he took off the collar, and when they tried to take it from him he put it on again. When he took it off the next time and offered it to them they refused to receive it, but tried to get him to put it on, which he stubbornly refused to do, and finally threw it away.
His last trick was to sit down upon his haunches, stick up one of his hind feet, and twirl a knife six feet long upon it as he had twirled the carrying-pole upon his head. The manager said he would wrestle with the men, but this was a side issue and only done when extra money was added to the regular price, which was twelve cents.
One of the most common showmen seen on the streets of Peking, goes about with a framework upon his shoulder in the shape of a sled, the runners of which are turned up at both ends. It seemed to me to be less interesting than the other shows, but as it is more common, the children probably look upon it with more favor, and the children are the final critics of all things for the little ones.
The show was given by a man and two boys, one of whom impersonated a girl. Small feet, like the bound feet of a girl, were strapped on like stilts, his own being covered by wide trousers, and he and the boy sang songs and danced to the music of the drum and cymbals in the hands of the showman.
The second part of the performance was a boat ride on dry land. The girl got into the frame, let down around it a piece of cloth which was fastened to the top, and took hold of the frame in such a way as to carry it easily. The boy, with a long stick, pushed as if starting the boat, and then pulled as if rowing, and with every pull of the oar, the girl ran a few steps, making it appear that the boat shot forward. All the while the boy sang a boat-song or a love-ditty to his sweetheart.
Again the scene changed. The head and hind parts of a papier mache horse were fastened to the "tomboy" in such a way as to make it appear that she was riding; a cloth was let down to hide her feet, and they ran to and fro, one in one direction and the other in the other, she jerking her unmanageable steed, and he singing songs, and all to the music of the drum and the cymbals.
It sometimes happens that while the girl rides the horse, the boy goes beside her in the boat, the rapidity and character of their movements being governed by the music of the manager.
The best part of the whole performance was that which goes by the name of the lion show. The girl took off her small feet and girl's clothes and became a boy again. One of the boys stood up in front and put on an apron of woven grass, while the other bent forward and clutched hold of his belt. A large papier mache head of a lion was put on the front boy, to which was attached a covering of woven grass large enough to cover them both, while a long tail of the same material was stuck into a framework fastened to the belt of the hinder boy.
The manager beat the drum, the lion stalked about the court, keeping step to the music, turning its large head in every direction and opening and shutting its mouth, much to the amusement of the children.
There is probably no country in the world that has more travelling shows specially prepared for the entertainment of children than China. Scarcely a day passes that we do not hear the drum or the gong of the showmen going to and fro, or standing at our court gate waiting to be called in.