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hieroglyphic, “that on the fourth day you have set down against me a repast of rice, whereas you very well know on that occasion I did myself the honor to descend into the town and lunch with his Excellency the Governor.”

      Again Yansan lowered his ensign three times, then deplored the error into which he had fallen, saying it would be immediately rectified.

      “There need to be no undue hurry about the rectification,” I replied, “for when it comes to a settlement I shall not be particular about the price of a plate of rice.”

      Yansan was evidently much gratified to hear this, but I could see that my long delay in liquidating his account was making it increasingly difficult for him to subdue his anxiety. The fear of monetary loss was struggling with his native politeness. Then he used the formula which is correct the world over.

      “Excellency, I am a poor man, and next week have heavy payments to make to a creditor who will put me in prison if I produce not the money.”

      “Very well,” said I grandly, waving my hand toward the crowded harbor, “my ship has come in where you see the white against the blue. To-morrow you shall be paid.”

      Yansan looked eagerly in the direction of my gesture.

      “She is English,” he said.

      “No, American.”

      “It is a war-ship?”

      “No, she belongs to a private person, not to the Government.”

      “Ah, he must be a king, then, – a king of that country.”

      “Not so, Yansan; he is one of many kings, a pork king, or an oil king or a railroad king.”

      “Surely there cannot be but one king in a country, Excellency,” objected Yansan.

      “Ah, you are thinking of a small country like Japan. One king does for such a country; but America is larger than many Japans, therefore it has numerous kings, and here below us is one of them.”

      “I should think, Excellency,” said Yansan, “that they would fight with one another.”

      “That they do, and bitterly, too, in a way your kings never thought of. I myself was grievously wounded in one of their slightest struggles. That flag which you see there waves over my fortune. Many a million of sen pieces which once belonged to me rest secure for other people under its folds.”

      My landlord lifted his hands in amazement at my immense wealth.

      “This, then, is perhaps the treasure-ship bringing money to your Excellency,” he exclaimed, awestricken.

      “That’s just what it is, Yansan, and I must go down and collect it; so bring me a dinner of rice, that I may be prepared to meet the captain who carries my fortune.”

      CHAPTER II

      After a frugal repast I went down the hill to the lower town, and on inquiry at the custom-house learned that the yacht was named the “Michigan,” and that she was owned by Silas K. Hemster, of Chicago. So far as I could learn, the owner had not come ashore; therefore I hired a sampan from a boatman who trusted me. I was already so deeply in his debt that he was compelled to carry me, inspired by the optimistic hope that some day the tide of my fortunes would turn. I believe that commercial institutions are sometimes helped over a crisis in the same manner, as they owe so much their creditors dare not let them sink. Many a time had this lad ferried me to one steamer after another, until now his anxiety that I should obtain remunerative employment was nearly as great as my own.

      As we approached the “Michigan” I saw that a rope ladder hung over the side, and there leaned against the rail a very free-and-easy sailor in white duck, who was engaged in squirting tobacco-juice into Nagasaki Bay. Intuitively I understood that he had sized up the city of Nagasaki and did not think much of it. Probably it compared unfavorably with Chicago. The seaman made no opposition to my mounting the ladder; in fact he viewed my efforts with the greatest indifference. Approaching him, I asked if Mr. Hemster was aboard, and with a nod of his head toward the after part of the vessel he said, “That’s him.”

      Looking aft, I now noticed a man sitting in a cushioned cane chair, with his two feet elevated on the spotless rail before him. He also was clothed in light summer garb, and had on his head a somewhat disreputable slouch hat with a very wide brim. His back was toward Nagasaki, as if he had no interest in the place. He revolved an unlit cigar in his mouth, in a manner quite impossible to describe; but as I came to know him better I found that he never lit his weed, but kept its further end going round and round in a little circle by a peculiar motion of his lips. Though he used the very finest brand of cigars, none ever lasted him for more than ten minutes, when he would throw it away, take another, bite off the end, and go through the same process once more. What satisfaction he got out of an unlighted cigar I was never able to learn.

      His was a thin, keen, business face, with no hair on it save a tuft at the chin, like the beard of a goat. As I approached him I saw that he was looking sideways at me out of the corners of his eyes, but he neither raised his head nor turned it around. I was somewhat at a loss how to greet him, but for want of a better opening I began:

      “I am told you are Mr. Hemster.”

      “Well!” he drawled slowly, with his cigar between his teeth, released for a moment from the circular movement of his lips, “you may thank your stars you are told something you can believe in this God-forsaken land.”

      I smiled at this unexpected reply and ventured:

      “As a matter of fact, the East is not renowned for its truthfulness. I know it pretty well.”

      “You do, eh? Do you understand it?”

      “I don’t think either an American or a European ever understands an Asiatic people.”

      “Oh, yes, we do,” rejoined Mr. Hemster; “they’re liars and that’s all there is to them. Liars and lazy; that sums them up.”

      As I was looking for the favor of work, it was not my place to contradict him, and the confident tone in which he spoke showed that contradiction would have availed little. He was evidently one of the men who knew it all, and success had confirmed him in his belief. I had met people of his calibre before, – to my grief.

      “Well, young man, what can I do for you?” he asked, coming directly to the point.

      “I am looking for a job,” I said.

      “What’s your line?”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “What can you do?”

      “I am capable of taking charge of this ship as captain, or of working as a man before the mast.”

      “You spread yourself out too thin, my son. A man who can do everything can do nothing. We specialize in our country. I hire men who can do only one thing, and do that thing better than anybody else.”

      “Sir, I do not agree with you,” I could not help saying. “The most capable people in the world are the Americans. The best log house I ever saw was built by a man who owned a brown-stone front on Fifth Avenue. He simply pushed aside the guides whose specialty it was to do such things, took the axe in his own hands, and showed them how it should be accomplished.”

      Mr. Hemster shoved his hat to the back of his head, and for the first time during our interview looked me squarely in the face.

      “Where was that?” he inquired.

      “Up in Canada.”

      “Oh, well, the Fifth Avenue man had probably come from the backwoods and so knew how to handle an axe.”

      “It’s more than likely,” I admitted.

      “What were you doing in Canada?”

      “Fishing and shooting.”

      “You weren’t one of the guides he pushed aside?”

      I laughed.

      “No, I was one of the two who paid for the guides.”

      “Well,

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