Little Sky-High | Page 5

clothes in the cabin under the blooming trees, at the end of the
arbor.
"And if you learn well," said she, "I may let you tend the door, and wait
upon the table, and keep the rooms in order."
"And then you will be up-stairs," said little Lucy, "where it is very
pleasant."
"And now, Sky-High, tell me how it is that you can speak English so
well," said Mrs. Van Buren, as they stood in the cabin, where the
prospect of solitude seemed to please the boy. A gleam of something
like mischief appeared on little Sky-High's face.
"And, Madame de Mandarin," said he, "I speak French too.
_Parlez-vous Français_, Mademoiselle Lucy?" he added rapidly,
turning to the little American girl. "Pardonne, Madame la Mandarin!"
"Sky-High will not say 'Mandarin' any more," said Mrs. Van Buren.
"There are no mandarins in this country, and when Sky-High is called
into the rooms above he will wear his plain clothes, not spangled
clothes. Now, who taught you English?"
"My master, madam."
"Say mistress, Sky-High."
"My master, mistress."
"Where did you live in Manchuria?"
"In the house of a mandarin."
"And who was your master?"
"The mandarin, mistress."
"Do mandarins in China teach their servants to speak English?"

"Some mandarins do, your grace."
"Do not say 'your grace,' Sky-High, but simply mistress. Ladies have
no titles in America. Where is the city in which you lived?"
"In Manchuria, on the coast, on the Crystal Sea."
The kitten came running into the kitchen, and at once leaped on to the
end of Sky-High's pigtail.
The boy gave his pigtail a sudden whisk.
"Pie-cat?" asked he.
"No, no!" said Mrs. Van Buren in horror. "We have no pie-cats in this
country. Was there an English teacher in your house?"
Little Sky-High was winding his pigtail about his neck for safety. He
saw Lucy giggling, and a laugh came into his own eyes.
"Pardonne, mistress. We had an English trader at the hong--at the
trade-house."
"Do they send servants to English teachers in China?"
"When they are to grow up and deal with English business, mistress."
"Did you meet English people at the hong?"
"Yes, mistress."
"Who were they?"
"I cannot name them. There were my lords and the admiral; and the
American Consul he came, and the German Consul he came, and the
American travelers they came, and Russian officers they came."
"How old are you, Sky-High?"

"There have passed over me fifteen New-Year days, mistress."
"Well, Sky-High," said his mistress, "I am going to give you this cabin
under the trees, where you may do your washings and all your ironings.
No one else shall come here to work. I have decided to have you begin
to-morrow to bring up the breakfast."
The next morning Sky-High performed his first service at the
breakfast-table. He brought up the coffee while Mr. Van Buren was
saying grace. He paused before the table.
"Sleepy, sleepy!" he exclaimed softly, "all sleepy!"
Mrs. Van Buren put out her hand as a signal for him to wait. Sky-High
did not understand, and the grace was concluded amid smiles.
Sky-High wondered much what had made the family sleepy at that time
of the day. They did not go to sleep at the breakfast-table in China.
"The mistress and her people," said he to Nora, "shut their eyes and go
to sleep at the breakfast."
"An' sure, it is quare you are yourself! They were praying. Don't you
ever say prayers, Sky-High?"
"My country has printed prayers," said Sky-High with lofty dignity.
"You're a hathen people. Here we call such as you a 'hathen Chinee,'
and there was a Californan poet that wrote a whole piece about the likes
of you. Children speak it at school. Here is the toast--carry it up!"
Lucy liked to see the little olive-colored "wang" moving about. One
day at the table she requested him to bring her a cup of tea. The little
Chinaman well knew that Lucy and Charles were not permitted to have
tea. He inquired whether he should make it in the American or the
Chinese way.
"In the way you would for a wang," said Lucy.

Sky-High soon re-appeared, his tray bearing a pretty little covered cup
and a silver pitcher.
"Where is the tea?" asked Lucy.
"It is in the cup, like a wang's," said Sky-High.
He poured the hot water on the tea, and fragrance filled the room.
Lucy, with a glance asking her mother's leave, tasted the tea she had
roguishly ordered.
"We do not have tea like this," she said; "is it tea?"
"Like a wang's," said Sky-High, blinking.
"Where did you get it?" asked Lucy.
"Out of my tea-canister," said Sky-High.
Little Lucy did not drink the tea, for little Lucy had never drunk a cup
of tea; but