Part 3

Night of Wedsday approach up. When dinner-eat was accomplished and dish-wash ceremony done up, my Cousin Nogi arrive to kitchen for make conversation from Japanese politics while eating cake, kindness of Mrs. Pumphrey who didn’t know it. Lateness of hour arrive. When time of 11.63 p.m. come, Nogi make sleepy go-home while I emerge to my bedroom expecting tomorrow, as usual.

I light gass. What was? Buzz! Ah, Hon. Fly, where was it? I turn my eyesight behind window-curtain—and sure enough! There stood one entirely enlarged buzzer washing his front thumbs.

With sneekret expression I borrow slipper from myself and stole forth. Crouches. Of finally, when Hon. Fly seem to be looking at his nose, I lep. Bangs! Yet he was too soon. He flew uply, aeroplaned circular for moments, and then—when less expected—start to fly outward through door.

O!! This escape must not! Slightly down hallway were child-room where Hon. Baby Alexander layed enjoying innocent nightmares. That fly must not arrive there to sting him with medical diseases. If no hero was there to save him who must? I must!

Therefore I rosh forwards with slippershoe in my Samurai thumbs. With talented stroke of match I lit gass. O yes! There were Hon. Fly snuggling in air right over eyebrow of that infantile. I make talented swing to lash him with slipper, yet he were too collusive for me. Ere I could brush him dead he make slippery-wing motion & flew to window-curtain where he hide shyly like poets avoiding praise.

I should get him yet! I crouch downly, my slipper raised uply. But while I do so—O look! Who there?

Standing distinctually in doorway of child-room I observe Hon. Mr. Pumphrey standing like a cold ghost in pajamas. And in his righthand finger he held that enlarged coltish revolver.

“What is?” he whasper ghastly.

“I chase one in here!” I gollup. “He are now coyly hiding behind curtain of window.”

“Were he stealing my child?” gawsp him.

“Not yet but maybe,” I narrate.

“Wait while I shoot,” he narrate while making target movement.

“Ah not!” I holla. “Permit me to do so. I have killed several with slippers.”

“How foolhardened is courage!” he stotter while I lep forwards. Swatts!! with dareless heel of slipper-shoe I collided Hon. Fly so certainly that he broke and fell amidst dead kicks. Prides filled my lungs. Joyly I reach downly, and pick Hon. Fly by fingers.

“I save your child without expense!” I naturalize. “Here is!”

“Here is what?” he require, peevly chewing his breath.

“Hon. Fly,” I reject, like militia.

“You mean say you approach in here so stealthly a.m.dnights for catch flies?” This from him with flashes.

“I say it!”

“Great Scotch! And I thought it was a burglar!” he say disappointly.

“So sorry I could not find one,” I gosp.

Hon. Mrs. Pumphrey come in while she fainted away.

“Next time you come into my Baby’s room don’t do so!” she snarrel.

“Mrs, Madam,” I decry, “how can you talk so crosswise? You tell me how slaughter flies for their rattlesnakish crimes, yet you say scolds when I do so.”

“Midnight is not fly-time,” she narrate.

“Maybe you are enraged because it were not a burglar,” I snuggest. “Yet what is more horble to have in house than a fly?”

“A Japanese foolboy is!” corrode Hon. Mrs. & Mr. in together voice while dejecting me outside of screen door where I still remain, feeling quite dissolute.

Hoping you are the same,

Yours truly, HASHIMURA TOGO.

VI

Togo Sails for Bargains

_To Editor Good Housekeeper Magazine who tell all American ladies what to wear, but neglect to explan where they can buy it._

Dear Sir:—I am now entirely missed from West Dewberry, Mass, near Boston where it is. Reason for this are dissimilarity of intellect caused by Hon. Mrs. Violet Sweet, lovely lady with Harvard voice and bargain arrangement of soul. I show you how was:

Last Thusday in the early a.m. of forenoon this Hon. Mrs. Sweet was setting with Boston news-print reading it up.

“Oh!” This from her.

“What is?” I require chivalrously standing near respectful carpet-sweep.

“Great sales are sailing in all Dept Stores! With immediate quickness I must depart off and buy one.”

“Can you afford this extravagance? I ask to know.

“In buying bargains I never consider costs,” she dib with mustard voice.

She depart offwards up stairs. Pretty soonly she return backwards wearing fashionable hobble of clothing.

“Togo,” she say for gently smiling, “how you like take vacation to day?”

“This would be good healthy for me.”

“I generously grant this rest to you,” she acknowledge. “All I require you to do is to come Boston with me & carry whatever shopping I buy.”

I a.m.ch obliged. So we depart off by railroad trolley while I carry suit-case, cloak, handbag & umburella on my polite elbow. She set proudishly in cars while I obtain rearward seat behind her. Pretty soonly Hon. Conductor encroach to her with carfare expression.

“I require transfers, if convenient,” she commute.

“Not to do, Hon. Lady!” reproach Hon. Conductor. “We never give transfer on cars of green complexion.”

“I shall report your backward talk,” she snib.

Pretty soonly she make turn-around to me.

“Pass me hand-bag!” she say so. I donate that leather implement.

She open him up and seek inside with nervous expression of fingers.

“You lost it?” I ask to know.

“I cannot dishcover my golden vain-box where it is!” she holla, making more looks inside. Eccitement. “O here is!” she exclam, bringing up one slight box resembling golden cake of soap. She open Hon. Suit-case, remove powder puff and make slight smudge to nose with that delicious feather. Then she put him back in box, close box, imprison him in bag, close bag and hand him to me.

“Give me suit-case,” she pronounce. I poke forth that valuable arcticle. She open him by brass clasp.

“Where are my hand-bag?” she require for frights.

“Here is!” I renig. She open him up to see if Hon. Vain Box are still comfortable, then close him, drop him in Hon. Suit-case, and thrust him backwards to me.

Pretty soonly we make changecar at Porterhouse Junction. We make step-up into red-headed street-car what await there.

“Carfare!” holla Hon. Conductor with police expression.

“Give transfers to this gentleman!” she require from me where I sat back.

“Hon. Conductor neglect to give us that paper!” I negotiate. Her eyes was full of vinegar.

“How dares you talk repartee after losing transfers?” she denote. So she give 10c extravagant cash to Hon. Conductor.

Nextly we came to Boston. Hon. Mrs. Sweet make her feet very determined and at lastly we arrive to a swollen building containing glass windows full of wax ladies resembling Newport. Hon. Mrs. Boss say “Oh!” with raptures and emerge inside.

Mr. Editor, I never observed so many ladies walking circular as was inside that Hon. Dept Store. Wholesale quantities of female people was rushing elsewheres like Suffragettes who lost their general.

In the meanwhiles Hon. Mrs. Boss were somewheres. I could not tell. For 26 complete minutes I make search-up while being knocked in both directions. At lastly I dishcover her by enlarged counter full of blue polka-dots containing label, “DRESS SILK 19c.”

“Togo,” she exclam, “where are my money?”

“No got,” I narrate. Her nose grew angry.

“Are you so unintellectual that you do not know my money is in my purse in my handbag in my suit-case?”

I give her Hon. Suit-case, feeling very sorry for my depravity.

Nextly we descend up elevator. On next floor I observed a warfare. Surrounding one enlarged sign pronouncing “Great Slaughter of Waists.” Hon. Mrs. Sweet see this and holla, “O such happy bargain!” Then she make inrush while acting like a mob.

She attempt to remove one refined clothing away from a fatty lady whose hat was rye on her head.

“Where you come from to act so Indian?” require Hon. Mrs. Fattish.

“From West Dewberry, Mass., more better place than you!” snib Hon. Mrs. Boss.

“I shall teach you some manners,” report Hon. Fattish making tug-jerk to waist.

I could not see that dear Mrs. Sweet thusly deposed upon, so I stand forth with upturned bundle.

“Stop off!” I holla to this wide woman. “How darest you be rude to a lady?”

Hon. Mrs. Boss and Hon. Mrs. Stout stand offward and look to me.

“Togo,” ensnap Mrs. Violet Sweet, “when you are called on you shall be called.”

So I withdrew backwards and permit her to finish that slaughter alone. Again she requesh me for handbag. I donate it to her.

“I shall keep it,” she dib. “You are not safe with valuable accumulations.”

So she give me one more swollen bundle for carry and proceed onwards.

“Where I shall find dish-pan, curling-iron and latest fiction-book bargain?” she require of Hon. Floorwalk.

“Three floor down-side take elevator,” he computate. We do so and arrive there where numerous sell-ladies was there making society conversation and other crashes of hardwear. Hon. Mrs. Sweet buy dish-pan, price 13½c. I carry this. She obtain pat toaster, bird-cage & complete written books of Hon. Rud Kipling. I hang those to myself.

“Where I find millinary hats?” she ask out to Hon. Sell lady.

“Top floor go upwards,” she indicate.

We do so. I stand back at respectable distance holding Hon. Bundle-package with fatigued elbows resembling Santa Claus. Hon. Mrs. set befront of mirror-glass attempting to make herself look Vanderbilt for $3.29 price. She try hat with roosters pointing upwards.

“You look very swelled for the price,” say Hon. Sell Lady.

“Took it away!” commit Hon. Mrs. She try hat with roosters dropping downwards.

“So joyful appearance!” suppose Hon. Sell Lady.

“Remove it!” snib Hon. Mrs.

At lastly she choose hatwear with roosters surrounding it in circles. Hon. Sell Lady enwrap it in box resembling trunk and this are piled on top of me. Thusly we start homewards.

At doorway Hon. Mrs. say,

“Oh! I must buy a pin, price 3c!” She elope to counter and do so.

Mr. Editor do you realize to know how difficult a pin can be? For 41 complete minutes we await that important sticker, then Hon. Mrs. must change $5 bill for remove 3c change out. At lastly when we arrive to trolley outside, Hon. Mrs. require,

“Togo, shopping are very outwearing work.”

“I heard so,” was loud report for me while restraining Hon. Hat Box where he slid on my ear.

At lastly we was in Porterhouse Junction setting in depot awaiting changecar. Of suddenly Hon. Mrs. holla,

“Oh!!!”

“What was?” This from me.

“I have lost Hon. Handbag. Elope back to Dept Store with immediate quickness and remove it from pin-counter where is.”

I set down all them bundles in pile resembling an Alp. Then I attach myself to Hon. Trolley and ride back to where she say.

With Samurai elbows I sidle myself through them broad ladies in Dept Store and arrive up at pin-place. Oh Yes! There were that dear Handbag laying loosely amidst pile of needles signed “4c.” I pick him up and start offwards.

While I was debutting out of door with Hon. Handbag on my proud wrist, one gentleman clasp me by coat.

“You are a shop snatcher!” he acknowledged glubly.

“I cannot assimulate your insult,” I renig.

“Where you obtain Hon. Bag?” he snuggle.

“He belong Hon. Mrs. Boss who is there!” I snagger.

“Come long to penitentiary!” he gubble, making dragging movements with my wrists.

“Hara kiri!” I yall, and before he could be more abominable I give him jiu jitsu and knock him over a bargain. Then I commence eloping away with talented foot-steps.

“Stop Mr. Thief!” several human persons holla, and nextly I knew I were a runaway with Boston attempting to catch up. I am a very sly Japanese, Mr. Editor, and when I was sufficiently entangled amidst streets I redoubled on myself and escape away to other sections of Boston where crimes was not noticed. 2 complete hour of time I hid there amongst flats. Then I emerge forth and catch redheaded trolley so I should meet Hon. Mrs. at Porterhouse Junction.

“Why you not stay all day?” she require sarcastly.

“Should gladly do so, but Hon. Police prevent,” I advocate.

“You got my handbag where was?”

“Yes, please!” I gave it forth to her. She look at it with disjointed eyes.

“Living sakes!!!” This from her. She enjoy deep gasp and faint off. By slight water-sip I revive her back.

“Damaged remnant of heathenish immigration!” she gollup, holding forth Hon. Bag. “Where you snatch this article of luggage?”

“Off from Hon. Pin-Counter,” I say so.

“I never seen it before. It belong to someone else!”

Thusly revolving she fainted out again. So I left her to enjoy it by herself and sklunk away feeling entirely impossible.

Hoping you are the same,

Yours truly, HASHIMURA TOGO.

VII

Togo in Bachelor’s Hall

_To Editor Good Housekeeper Magazine, who must believe in shooing bachelors from neat homes with other flies and mice._

Dear Mr. Sir:—If you make inquiry for me at home of Hon. C. J. McGumm, Philadelphia, N. J., please do not go there, because needless to find me where I no longer am. I changed my mind from that job of employment for reason I say here.

Hon. Mrs. C. J. McGumm are blondface lady of considerable young years and very goodhousekeeping mind. Her Hon. Husband (of similar name) are the only untidiness she cannot sweep off from carpet when attacking cleanliness.

“Why are you so rubbish, Hon. Darling?” she require each nightfall when he retreat home from office with tired business appearance. “When you are in house all furniture cease to act obedient like it should and everything become deranged apart. Door-knob then become hat-rack for your derby, your coat wanders to sofa and fall asleep, while shoes will be found under piano kicking mud.”

He act entirely sugar to her. He reply to her inquiries by kissing expression of mustache, and they talk dove-dove language, which explain everything by not doing so.

But at lastly explodes came.

“Must marriage always be a cyclone?” she require one morning a.m. when he threw newspaper in gas-log with negligée expression.

“Hon. Heartsweet!” he snuggest, “I wish be comfortable in my own home.”

“So ha!” Weeps enjoyed by her. “Then you do not love me some more!”

“Why is?” he repostulate. “Must I prove adoration by acting miserable around house?”

“You are becoming more detached from me each day, I notice,” she lamentalize. “I can tell by your easy, smiling manner that you think of me too seldom. You break my house rules continuously. Instead of setting in hard, cheap chairs, you occupy wedding plush rocker, price 50$, which should be used only by society when it calls; you make smoke-cigar whenever you feel smoky; all time you read prize-fight instead of talking love to me, and each meal you demand apple pie with insurgent expression.”

“But I like apple pie,” he snuggest.

“Formerly you loved nothing but me,” she snatch. “Now you forget you are married.”

“Must I refuse to eat because married?” he snagger doggishly.

“So ha!” she dib for pain. “If that is where your thoughts are staying, then all must cease. Farebye! Hence forthly you shall find me c/o Mother.”

She arrange hat with traveling expression and make bang-out from door.

While she depart off Hon. McGumm stand by window-glass looking very Romeo. Sadness showed from his ears and chin. Then suddenly he resolve around, making humorous smiles resembling tickled hyenas.

“Ha, ha,” he say so. “Tee Hee and Ho. She imagines to think home cannot be properly heated without a woman. She thinks shucks. Togo, we show her how. We shall now run this house man-style instead of lady-style. Bachelor Hall are only proper residence for male gentlemen.”

“I am agreeable for this,” I report fearlessly. “How should we begin changing the sex of this home?”

“Signs of refinement should be removed with immediate quickness,” he devolve. “Remove ribbons & home-sweet-home portraits from wall and order 6 cases beer. In attic you shall find complete college-boy outfit of Indiana clubs, box-gloves, and love-me pictures. These shall be arranged in parlor to resemble saloon and other outdoor sports. Prepare for dinner-eat tonight 10 lbs. complete beefsteak & 9 apple pies, served with poker-chips and onions. To night at 7 p.m. I shall give annual banquet to members of Yamma Yamma Fraternity of which I was a joiner in days of manhood.”

“I shall do so with all the crudeness of my nature,” I alarm.

“Banzai & hurrah! We are free!” holla Hon. McGumm while he depart to office looking happy but lonesome.

Mr. Editor, you scarcely could imagine how I work to make that tender home look tough. Up in top-garret I find considerable Yale tools. One university row-paddle, 6 box-gloves, college pendulums with hurrah-rah signatures on it, portraits of class days, dogs, chorus-girls, and other prizefights all signed “To Darling Chas.” Also several German-speaking beer-gobblers and one landscape representing Hon. Gaby des Lys at a horse-race.

I fetch these to downstairs.

From parlor-room I took considerable art, representing several mother-portraits, portrait of “Innocence” representing childhood playing romp, portraits of an Alp by Aunt Sapho Lutz and considerable photo of McGumm uncles enlarged from their ancestry. Also fire-screen containing gilt, and tidy-cloth embroidered with artistic yarn. Also red splush albuum and several framed-up mottos from Shakespeare, Elb Hubbard & Genesis.

I fetch these to upstairs.

With considerable talent resembling dry-goods draping windows, I derange decorations for that parlor-room. I pile beer-bottles to piano and fill jardenair with cigars. A rude house motto reporting “CAMELS ONLY DRINK ONCE IN 78 DAYS BUT ENJOY IT LONG TIME” I sat on mantelpiece where portrait of Hon. Ralph Woodrow Emerson once were. Hon. Punch Bag I roped from chandeleer, while landscapes representing actor-ladies, dogs and other glee clubs I disarranged esthetically where was. I set parlor table with food-plates and decorate him in central middle with box-gloves and college pendulum containing joy-cries. Poker-chips by each plate.

That room look considerable unmarried when I finish him.

At promptness of six o’clock I elope to kitchen and commence mingling steak with onions. At 6.22 I hear war-song resembling feetball, and, peaking fourth from kitchen, I observe Hon. C. J. McGumm bringing home a Varsity.

“You remember that dreary date of ’99 when I bursted your collar-bone?” require one polar-bearish gentleman hugging Hon. McGumm till I heard him crack.

“Them were hilarious days,” commute Hon. Boss. “Let us give rah-rah.”

They do so, while plaster jar loose from spoken song.

When I fetch forth raw steak and apple pie, all require, “What the matter with Togo?”

“Nothing, no more than usual,” I snop for dignity. This seem to make them still more thirsty, so beer was sipped amidst Yamma Yamma congratulations. That ceremony were done very quietly while tablecloth was burning from heated cigarette.

“There was nothing to equal bachelor enjoyment,” explain Hon. C. J. McGumm while doing so.

“Nothing,” report one Taft-shape athlete. “I announce my engagement to Miss Tessie Dewberry.”

“We also shall marry in springtime,” pronounce 2 others distinctually. Slight glum settle over all until basso quartet make song-sing entitled “Soldier’s Farewell,” which add more jolly.

“Let us play penny-aunty as in oldtime date,” snuggest Hon. Boss. So they do so with considerable card.

Mr. Editor, I cannot understand this gambol. It are like golf, a game spoken in a foreign language.

Considerable pile-up of poker-chip was enjoyed while one man say “I see you!” yet look other way. They set for long lateness gossiping about Aunty amidst click-click noise. It seem very tame exercise, less cruel than feetballing, but more expensive.

By one a.m. time my eyes got hypnotized from watching this straight-flushing amusement, so I retired my head on chair and slept away.

At 3 a.m. by clockwork, I awoke upwards with basso quartet retreating off with song-sing entitled “Good-night, Lady!” Yet I could not see her.

Next morning 8 a.m. Hon. Boss Man say he no care for breakfast in dining-room because it make him feel destitute. So he took egg and coffee in kitchen. He say he would be home indefinitely, so he depart off for office seeming entirely unmarried.

I took look at the appearance of that bachelor parlor. Considerable rumpage was observed there. Quite several cigars had remained where they dropped and 26 bottles stood by gas-log looking quite vacant. Portraits of dogs & glee-clubs hung on wall in unequal position, resembling sea-storm.

What must I do with this room? I think Hon. Boss had told me whether Bachelor Hall should ever be clean. Maybe not. It certainly look less ladylike than ever in this deranged condition. Perhapsly Hon. Boss should be entirely enraged if I attemp to broom & dust this compartment he had took so much pains to masculify.

So I set by table, lit slight cigar, and read pugilist paper while upturning my feet. As thusly I reclined I did not hear something coming in front door.

“O!!!**??”

I peek upward. There stood Hon. Mrs. looking less peaceful than hornets.

“Hashimura Togo, what species of brutal debutchery have you been doing in my absentee?” she snarrel.

“I no do!” I say so. “Hon. Husband do!”

“Do not add untruthfulness to your falsehood,” she snuggest snap-turtlefully.

“I have read in papers about the distrustworthiness of Japanese servant-girls. But now I know. O!!! I leave my poordear Husband for you take care of. And thusly you neglect him. How he must suffer!”

She cover her hands with her face.

“I swear it, Mrs. High Boss, your Hon. Husband—”

“Do not swear before ladies,” she snib. “Now depart away while I faint.”

I do so feeling entirely decapitated.

Hoping you are the same,

Yours truly, HASHIMURA TOGO.

VIII

Togo at the Seashore

_To Editor Good Housekeeper Magazine who know how cook delicious varieties of seashells._

Dear Mr.:—Among the fresh air at Sandflea Beach, Conn., employed by Hon. Mrs. & Mr. Liddbeater, I am no longer to be found at that address. If some one could find a seashore without an ocean attached to it I should be more happily to remain.

Nikkamura Japanese Employment Agcy send me there, where I arrive to smiling blue porch setting alonesome amid winds. The internals of that house resemble bleached almshouse, yet Hon. Mrs. Liddbeater say she were fortunate to obtain it in fashionable location price 200$ monthly.

“While by seashore we love the tough simplicity of life,” she snuggest with sweat-hearted expression. “We must pay expensively for our discomforts here, yet we are prideful to do so.”

“This place resemble Coney Island, yet less fashionable,” I report for compliment while observing girl-i-gig machinery on beach, candy, flirtatiousness and clams while Hon. Ocean bounce up suddenly making suds.

“It are splandid place to come for rest,” she report. “Now kindly to fetch 8 trunks upstairs, split wood, lynch hammock on porch, and deliver 14 buckets water from artizan well 11 blocks up street. When this are finished lunching can be prepare for 10, rugs beat, and ice-cream friz for party tonight.”

I thank her and feel sure I shall enjoy this vacation from work.

These Liddbeater family have got two (2) children of assorted sexes, age 17 & 18 respectfully. Eclaire are girl name and Oliver his. Both wear very giggling clothes and love to be engaged. She got Stanhope Whifflebudd, deliciously matinée boy, for hers, while Hon. Oliver obtain sweetheart attention from Hon. Bluebell Vawk, youngly lady of extreme tango.

All those frivolled young persons take rest by not doing so. Each evening they must attend Prof. Pffuster’s Waltzing Academy for more education in new Max Itch dance, which are all the enrage. Daytime they must enjoy tennis-play, walking, quarreling, and other excitements. Only time they remain quiet is when they go swimming, for this they can do by laying on beach under umburellas.