Little Sky-High | Page 5

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 its fragrance lingered about the house through the day, and set her wondering what else the little Chinaman's immense trunk might hold.
It had been agreed between the Consul and Mrs. Van Buren that little Sky-High might talk with the family; and like her husband she found the Chinese boy "a new book." She asked him many a curious question about the "Flowery Kingdom," and one day she learned that "we never send our finest teas out of China." Yes "we" said the washee-washee-wang, as the neighbor-boys called him.

IV.
HOW SKY-HIGH CALLED THE GOVERNOR.
Cheerfully, in his fine blue linens, the little Chinese house-boy worked in his cabin a portion of every day. The bluebirds came close to sing to him and so did the red-breasted robins. Irish Nora and the parrot became very civil, and he grew fond of Charlie and Lucy.
Some of the boys on their way to and from school made his only real annoyance. Sometimes when his smoothing-iron was moving silently under his loose-sleeved hand, or he was hanging the snowy clothes on the lines, they would hide behind a tree or corner, and shy sticks at him calling, "washee-washee-wang!" He bore it