The Unexpurgated Diary of a Shanghai Baby (3 page)

“Judging from his complexion this morning, they drank his farewell toast in Ningpo varnish,” said papa.

“He'll have to behave for a while anyway, as he's going on an American liner and the only wet thing around the boat will be the ocean,” mama replied. “He certainly is a wild character. It served him right to have all his chinaware broken.”

Tried to tell family that next door houseboy had borrowed our China for party, but mama told amah to take me out as I was making too much noise.

Mama found out about China today. Very angry. Papa said that if mama would look into the kitchen once in awhile, these things wouldn't happen. Mama said she stayed out of the kitchen as much as possible, because every time she went in, she found out something she didn't want to know. “Last time I dropped in, I saw the cook filling the chow water bottles from the kitchen faucet,” mama said.

Houseboy says that he will make up loss by
borrowing china from houses where his relations work. Mama remarked that she would, like to sack house-boy, but papa said never mind, as he is going to be married next week and will be punished enough.

Tried out new tooth on hard cake amah bought from street hawker. Seems to be working well. Nobody else has noticed it, though. Wanted to call auntie's attention to it, but she was too busy talking to papa. Auntie was saying that she would like to invite Bertie to dinner.

“He doesn't have much chance to see home-life,” Auntie said, “He lives in a mess.”

“I don't doubt it,” said papa, “He generally looks like one.” Auntie said papa didn't appreciate Bertie, as he was very clever and was a great student of botany.

“I noticed that he was interested in grass widows,” papa said.

“You don't know what a big soul he has, or you wouldn't say such things,” said Auntie, beginning to cry.

“Don't I though,” said papa, “I'll bet he wears number elevens.”

Can't make anybody pay attention to tooth. Have thought some of squalling, but what is the use? They would only undress me to look for safety-pins.

In Which the Baby Finds that He Can't Stand the Social Pace … The Inconveniences of Being Kissed by Company … The Elusive Bachelor in Shanghai … Cold Jelly-Fish versus Stocking Feet.

Sleepy today, as family kept me awake last night getting ready to go to dinner party. Wish crib was up in attic. Noise began as soon as they came upstairs.

“Is it a boiled shirt affair?” asked papa, looking out of bathroom with lather on face.

“Of course,” said mama, “Were you contemplating wearing your golf-suit?”

“I was contemplating not going at all,” said papa, “Last time I went there a fat woman we played bridge with mistook my foot for her husband's and stepped on it every time they bid. I was lame for a week.”

“You don't want to go any less than I do,” said mama, “I went to a tea-party today and I'm all worn out.”

“Well” said papa, looking at mama's evening dress, “If that's the way I felt about it, I'd put some clothes on and go to bed.”

“Go on and get ready,” said mama, jabbing tortoise shell ornament into hair. A few minutes later papa came back to ask if Ethel wasn't going.

“She's late again,” said mama.

“I suppose she stopped to have a permanent wave put in her finger-nails or something,” said papa, looking for pearl stud under bed. Just as they left I heard mama tell papa to keep an eye on the spoons, as she was trying to locate half a dozen that the house-boy loaned out a month ago. Have decided to start reprisals if family continues to make noise going to parties. Would like to organise other Shanghai babies into a union for an eight-hour day.

Family came down late to break-fast on account of party. Mama told papa he should have known enough to return his partner's lead on hearts in the last rubber.

“I didn't realise I'd borrowed it from her,” said papa. “It's too late to return it now unless I do it by chit. Besides, that will even us up a little. Her husband took $100 from me two months ago and hasn't returned it yet.”

Mama didn't say anything but stirred coffee hard.

“Anyway,” said papa after a moment, “I don't go through a whole hand with my mind in a millinery
shop and then come up for air to ask what's trumps.”

“Who does that?” asked mama sweetly.

“I read somewhere that the late Empress-Dowager did,” said papa, looking at toast with interest. No more conversation during breakfast.

Company came in afternoon. Expected trouble when I heard mama tell amah to put on my filet lace dress, as I was to be brought downstairs for a while. Tried to crawl behind linen in closet, but amah found me and hauled me out. Hate company. First fat woman kissed me and said I was a “diddle, diddle dumpkin.” Then thin woman kissed me and said I was a “witchykitchy sweetheart.” Then a bald-headed man kissed me and said I was a regular little Jack Dempsey.

“He's such a fine baby it's easy to see he has a mother's personal care,” said one lady.

“He surely has,” said mama looking pleased. Wonder if amah is a mother.

Company finally drifted into next room to have tea and forgot me. Had a pleasant time playing with coal in brass hod and listening to conversation. Heard bald-headed man remark that he had a headache this
afternoon, as he had taken several grains of quinine and it always made him dizzy. Surprised to hear this, as it was not quinine I noticed when he kissed me. He also said that he always takes a great deal of medicine in the East, as the drinking water doesn't agree with him.

“How did you happen to find out?” asked papa politely. Mama kicked papa under table and started sudden conversation about expedition into Thibet.

“It must be terribly thrilling to be among wild people and wild animals,” said fat lady.

“Oh, I don't know,” answered papa, “You can see enough wild people here in Shanghai, and if you're pining for wild animals, just wait until the mosquito season opens.”

“I think it must be very exciting,” said mama, giving papa quick expression. “Sometimes I wish I had married an explorer.”

“You have,” said papa, reaching for cookie, “I'm just about to apply for a medal from the Royal Geographical Society. Yesterday, alone and unassisted, I found three addresses on Dixwell Road.”

Thin lady said she heard that in Thibet they made statues of butter and kept them for as long as a year.

“Now I know where some of the dairies in Shanghai get their supply,” said papa.

Went to sleep leaning against coal hod. When I
woke up, company had left to go to concert and mama was telling papa that he was hopelessly lowbrow.

Bertie expected for dinner today. Auntie very excited. Bought some long-stemmed flowers and put them in vases on either side of the grate. Also spent hour before glass trying hair new way. I was downstairs when Bertie came and heard him remark that he was looking forward to going on a paper-hunt. “It's about time,” said papa, who had come in from office. “I go on one six days a week, trying to pick up paper with some government printing on it. It's a great sport.” Bertie said that he was thinking of giving up his present place to become a broker.

“Would you ride around town in one of those dear little traps?” asked Auntie, clasping her hands, “I think they're too sweet for words.”

“Yes,” said papa. “They're a great sight. Every morning the brokers stage a Ben Hur chariot race on the Bund, most of them standing up in the pose of an ancient Roman with short petticoats and a filet around his brow. Every time exchange drops a ha'penny, the mafoo hits the horse, and when it drops a penny, he runs over a ricsha coolie.”

Didn't hear any more, as was busy pulling heads off
long-stemmed flowers which flower-man had fastened on with pins.

Fair weather this morning. Took off one more layer of clothes. Mama asked Auntie if Bertie had said anything yet. “Nothing except that it was a nice day yesterday,” said Auntie, looking cross.

Auntie spent rest of morning playing sad music on phonograph. Papa came in for tiffin while she was trying “Where is My Wandering Boy Tonight?” and stood up straight with hand at forehead.

“Why are you standing up?” said mama, coming in.

“That's Shanghai's national anthem,” said papa, sitting down at end of record.

Spent some time in basement with amah, trying to make friends with cook's cat. Rather nice pussy, but don't like the way he sings. Sounds like Auntie taking vocal culture.

Heard mama tell papa that houseboy was going to be married in a few days and that family should give him a present.

“What's the idea?” asked papa.

“We don't owe him any present. He's been
harvesting his trousseau from my wardrobe for the past three months.”

Mama said if we lost this house boy, we might get another not interested in wardrobe but fond of family jewelry. Papa said that we might as well give him a present, as he would take one anyway.

“What shall it be - a silver nut dish or a brass card-receiver?” papa asked.

“Neither, of course,” said mama.

“It ought to be something practical, that he could use every day.”

“How about an alarm-clock?” asked papa.

Family still arguing when amah brought my bottle and piece of candied ginger cousin sent from Canton.

Quiet afternoon. Heard mama wondering why living-room couch always looked so untidy in the morning. Could have told her that cook's brother-in-law, who is out of job, sleeps there every night after family goes upstairs, but mama never talks to me unless to say “da-da” once in a while. Family rather snobbish. Glad amah and I move in same social circle.

Papa came home early and mama told him that
they were going to sukiaki with people they had met at card-party.

“Whose bright idea was that?” asked papa.

“Why, don't you like a sukiaki?” said mama.

“I can think of other ways of enjoying myself besides sitting in my stocking-feet on the floor eating Japanese stew and cold devil-fish,” said papa. “Besides, I never went to one of those affairs yet that I didn't have a hole in my sock, and had to walk with my feet drawn up, so people couldn't see it.”

“That's your own fault,” said mama.

“Oh, is it?” asked papa. “Well, if I'm expected to do the embroidery on my own hosiery, I may as well borrow some Chinese clothes and hire out as a Number 2 Amah.”

Nothing more said about stockings just then, but later heard papa ask mama to lend him some court plaster as he had discovered hole.

Went out this morning with amah and wooden elephant. Elephant very nice to bite tooth on, but always falling out of perambulator into street. Amah kind about picking it up and giving it back to me. Know taste of every street in Shanghai.

In Which the Baby Hears a Conversation on Art as She is Daubed … Later Observes the Chinese Art of Squeeze … Indications of Gentle Spring in the Far East … Why Caesar crossed the Rubicon.

Mama received picture from America, which she said Aunt Mary sent her for anniversary present. “Isn't it a wonderful work of art?” said mama, showing it to papa.

“It surely is,” said papa, turning frame, “Which way do you look at it?”

“It's a view of the sun setting behind waves,” said mama, snatching it away.

“Oh, is it?” asked papa. “I thought it was a ripe tomato rising above a sheaf of lettuce leaves.”

Mama said papa had no appreciation of art, and papa said that he had and could prove it by bringing home picture which friend had just given him called “Nymph Among the Flowers.”

“I'm not sure we would want that in our home,” mama answered.

“Oh, it's perfectly O.K.,” papa said. “It was done after the Futurist School and might just as well have been entitled, ‘Electrical Buzz Saw in Action.'”

Family stopped talking about pictures, as washman come just then and mama wanted to know why all family linen had changed initials in last five days.

Pleasant weather. Sat on porch with wooden elephant and watched our coolie cut flowers from next-door garden. Later coolie came in and collected twenty cents from mama to pay flower-man. Just wait until I can talk.

Auntie said at tiffin today that she was going to tea-dance with new man named Cyril.

“Everybody says that he is a wonderful dancer,” said Auntie, “He has made a name for himself.”

“He has made several names for himself, and he uses them when he signs chits,” said papa.

“I think you are too mean for words,” said Auntie, struggling to cut chop.

“Well,” said papa, “I wouldn't pin too much faith to a wonderful dancer. You can't eat a foxtrot.”

Mama said it was a good thing young men in town
had the habit of hiring cars, as a girl couldn't make much progress otherwise on account of ricshas being so unsociable.

“They ought to build them tandem,” said papa.

When family stopped talking about ricshas, papa remarked that mama ought to tell the cook not to buy any more Peking camels, as he had blisters on his hands from trying to cut the meat.

Nice afternoon. Went out with amah in perambulator. Saw fresh Jap baby on Jap amah's back. Looked very foolish. Glad I don't have to wear kimono in street.