Cabbages and Kings | Page 9

Lotus And The Bottle
Willard Greddie, consul for the United States in Coralio, was working
leisurely on his yearly report. Goodwin, who had strolled in as he did
daily for a smoke on the much coveted porch, had found him so
absorbed in his work that he departed after roundly abusing the consul
for his lack of hospitality.
"I shall complain to the civil service department," said Goodwin;-- "or
is it a department?--perhaps it's only a theory. One gets neither civility
nor service from you. You won't talk; and you won't set out anything to
drink. What kind of a way is that of representing your government?"
Goodwin strolled out and across to the hotel to see if he could bully the
quarantine doctor into a game on Coralio's solitary billiard table. His
plans were completed for the interception of the fugitives from the
capital; and now it was but a waiting game that he had to play.
The consul was interested in his report. He was only twenty-four; and
he had not been in Coralio long enough for his enthusiasm to cool in
the heat of the tropics--a paradox that may be allowed between Cancer
and Capricorn.
So many thousand bunches of bananas, so mnay thousand oranges and
coconuts, so many ounces of gold dust, pounds of rubber, coffee,
indigo and sarparilla--actually, exports were twenty per cent greater
than for the previous year!
A little thrill of satisfaction ran through the consul. Perhaps, he thought,
the State Department, upon reading his introduction, would notice--and
then he leaned back in his chair and laughed. He was getting as bad as
the others. For the moment he had forgotten that Coralio was an

insignificant republic lying along the by-ways of a second-rate sea. He
thought of Gregg, the quarantine doctor, who subscribed for the
London ~Lancet~, expecting to find it quoting his reports to the home
Board of Health concerning the yellow fever germ. The consul knew
that not one in fifty of his acquaintances in the States had ever heard of
Coralio. He knew that two men, at any rate, would have to read his
report--some underling in the State Department and a compositor in the
Public Printing Office. Perhaps the typesticker would note the increase
of commerce in Coralio, and speak of it, over the cheese and beer, to a
friend.
He had just written: "Most unaccountable is the supineness of the large
exporters in the United States in permitting the French and German
houses to practically control the trade interests of this rich and
productive country"--when he heard the hoarse notes of a steamer's
siren.
Geddie laid down his pen and gathered his Panama hat and umbrella.
By the sound he knew it to be the ~Valhalla~, one of the line of fruit
vessels plying for the Vesuvius Company. Down to ~ninos~ of five
years, every one in Coralio could name you each incoming steamer by
the note of her siren.
The consul sauntered by a roundabout, shaded way to the beach. By
reason of long practice he gauged his stroll so accurately that by the
time he arrived on the sandy shore the boat of the customs officials was
rowing back from the steamer, which had been boarded and inspected
according to the laws of Anchuria.
There is no harbor at Coralio. Vessels of the draught of the ~Valhalla~
must ride at anchor a mile from shore. When they take on fruit it is
conveyed on lighters and freighter sloops. At Solitas, where there was a
fine harbor, ships of many kinds were to be seen, but in the roadstead
off Coralio scarcely any save the fruiters paused. Now and then a tramp
coaster, or a mysterious brig from Spain, and then a tramp coaster, or a
mysterious brig from Spain, or a saucy French barque would hang
innocently for a few days in the offing. Then the custom-house crew
would become doubly vigilant and wary. At night a sloop or two would

be making strange trips in and out along the shore; and in the morning
the stock of Three-Star Hennessey, wines and drygoods in Coralio
would be found vastly increased. It has also been said that the customs
officials jingled more silver in the pockets of their red-striped trousers,
and that the record books showed no increase in import duties received.
The custom's boat and the ~Valhalla~ gig reached the shore at the same
time. When they grounded in the shallow water there was still five
yards of rolling surf between them and dry sand. Then half- clothed
Caribs dashed into the water, and brought in on their backs the
~Valhalla's~ purser, and the little native officials in their cotton
undershirts, blue trousers with red stripes, and flapping straw hats.
At college Geddie had been a treasure