FullReads

By this time you should have noticed, if you ever stop to think, that Marmaduke was quite a traveller. It was really remarkable the trips and voyages that boy took–not only to the town, and Apgar’s Woods, and the Leaning Mill on Wally’s Creek, but to the South Seas, The Cave of the Winds, the Ole Man in the Moon, the Fields of Golden Stars, and to all sorts of beautiful cities and kingdoms, some of which you may find in your geographies, and some not on any map in the world. And he didn’t have much money for fares, either. It was hard to tell just how he managed all these journeys, but sometimes, do you know, I suspect he paid for his fare with a ticket of dreams. What do you think? Well, anyway, one day he went to China.

And this is the way it all came about:

First he went to town–with the Toyman, of course, and Old Methusaleh. That old white horse was tied to the hitching-post in front of Trennery’s Grocery Store, with his nose deep in a feed-bag. While the Toyman was talking to Mr. Trennery–Mr. Will Trennery, and his brother Lish–Marmaduke sat on the seat of the buggy and watched the people. There were a lot of them, more than he ever saw on the farm, all at one time. There must have been almost fifty on the street. Some of them were lounging around the soldier who stood on the big stone with a gun that never went off; some were hitching up their horses, or “giddyapping” to them; while a crowd was going in the side door of the “City Hotel,” and another stood in front of Trennery’s Grocery Store, telling who’d be the next president. They were very wise, they thought, but Marmaduke was sure the Toyman could tell them a thing or two–and that was just what the Toyman was doing.

After a while Marmaduke tired of listening to all their talk about presidents and the new Justice of the Peace, and he looked at the other stores and all their signs. He noticed a new one that had just come to town. It stood between Trennery’s and Candlemas’ Emporium, and it was even more interesting than the candy store. It had a red sign above the door with white letters which read:–

“Hop Sing
Laundry.”

In the windows were parcels of shirts, tied with white string, with little slips of paper under the string. These slips of paper were colored like the petunias in Mother’s garden, and on them were funny black letters that looked like chicken-, and rabbit-, and fox-tracks, all mixed up.

Inside the store three little men were ironing, ironing away on boards covered with sheets, and jabbering in a strange language. And they wore clothes that were as strange as the words they spoke–clothes that looked like pajamas with dark blue tops and light blue trousers. And each of the little men had a yellow face, slant eyes, and a black pigtail.

It was Saturday, and a group of town-boys stood around the door, gazing in at the three strange little men and mocking them:–

“Ching, ching Chinaman,
Bow, wow, wow!”

Then one of the boys would shout in through the door,–“Bin eatin’ any ole stewed rats, Chinky?” and another would ask,–“Give us a taste of yer bird’s-nest pudding?” They thought they were very smart, and that wasn’t all, for, after calling the Chinamen all the names they could think of, the boys reached down into the ditch, which some men were digging for a sewer, and scooped up handfuls of mud and threw it straight into the laundry and all over the snow-white shirts the little men were ironing; at which, the Chinamen grew very angry and came to the door, shaking their flat-irons in their hands and calling,–