University of Nanking - Linguist Yearbook (Nanking, China)

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ROAD ll'l1cre shall uve lair lonighlf' said Grey Brctlwr, for from now we follow new lv'11ils. -Kipliilg. HOUGH trails lead you to the land of lanterns at the other side of the world, they do not end, They brunch into old, deep-rutted roads and tiny paths between the Hooded fields. If you will take these roads with me today, your feet will he sore, but your heart will be full of the things your eyes have seen. There will he donkeys nodding along briskly under their loads. They are the merriest, things in all China. Camels slobber and grunt, and the slate-blue hulifaloes are stupid, but it donkey steps daintily and looks at life humorously. VV0 Shall S00 many a man with a stick upon his shoulder, the sign of the road-paeer the world 'Lp over. But here, there must he a load on either end of that stick. His feet twinkle along swiftly 7 enough, but his shoulders never move under the weight of his baskets. He Sings Us he S003 ill QUCOI' little panting jerks, a few haunting phrases without words. No Can sing, no can work, says he. When two are toQ9tlN'1' their voices lllternate in time with the hurrying feet, and the load of their labor is lightened. Chinese musie seems in tune with the high pitched V2 y Squeak of the wheelbarrows. Their shrill whine carries - i fill' across the paddy lields from some island furnistead. X Ill imagination we can see their loads,-hugs of rice, or T00ds for fuel, or live grunting hogs, tied one 011 'COP of , -- ,L 3 'U10f'l1e1'. W0 can see, too, the strain in the cy0S0f'f110 E 'L RB wheelbarrow eoolie. and how he staggers under the load. l 41 i

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i THAT REMINDS ME HE Chinese Language isn't nearly the wild jargon that we once sup- posed it to be. Even as we sometimes see Chinese men and women who remind us of certain friends or acquaintances at home, so we quite often hear Chinese words which resemble words in our mother tongue. For instance, the words for Close the floor sound almost exactly like Go on, man! Joe is your foot, loe is your head, show is your hand, sing is your heart, and peachy is your disposition. The word for stocking sounds almost exactly like wrwtsg that for hint is cojling the wind is fun, and business is sunny. lllama is slow, and Paw is afraid, if you call Hi, Paw! you are very much afraid. What is yet more strange, little brother is a D. D. l lYe are glad to meet some of our old American and English friends here in China. W'e have already noticed Jong' John is standing, Sue counts, May is beautiful, and little sister is illamie. Then too, there are many kinds of chow la bridgej in China. Here isjclly, pic is a sign tof what?J, and the pilfldiny is no good. If you ask why, the answer is that 'why is bad. If you are still unsatisfied, and ask how, you arc told that how is good, In China, instead of putting on your hat, you dye it, and instead of taking oft your gloves, you chew them. China has a few love-making words, though of course they have never been used by a single Language School student. If you say Howdy, Ilan! it seems that you are at your very best, while Ready, Hun? means that you are as hot as you can be. Oh is I, I is love, and knee is you. When the boys back home tell their girls, Oh, I need you, little do they dream they arc talking Chinese' Now let's gog hop in the rieksha. lf you want to go to Nanking's pagoda, you tell the rieksha man, By j1'1z.go! If you'1'e bound for a nearby business street you say, 131Hi1'1I11'1ig f'h0w! But if you want to go to the Fifth Avenue of Nanking to buy flowered silk, you merely wave your hand and say in a hlase tone, Wash your cloyis eye ! It's a ffreftt l'l'l10'lI l0'C this Cl1i110S0. D'cC? D7 Qeltlj

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42 ROADS There is a village through which we must pass. You will have time for only a quick glance about, for in these narrow dirty streets we pick our way with care. Did you see what I saw? A starved, wet-looking kitten in a patch of sung a poultry shop with its rows of lacquered chickens, strung up by the neckg a frightened monkey in a crowd of delighted children whose noses rung vendors and their gongsg a wild-eyed, wild-haired devotee with a fluteg a blear-eyed ancient holding a ehild's soft, roughed cheek against her own. And always the lean dogs will be sniffing at our heels. We are again on the open road. In a private ricksha is a young exquisite wearing a pale blue broeaded garment over pale blue trousers. He is airing his pet cricket in a tiny polished cage. I will tell you so that you need not look, that four men are coming, pulling a wooden truck. They wear a greasy circlet of braided hair. For, when the labor of the day is done, these burdened men have no mind left to discover that queues are out of style. The last red is pricking thc graying memories of yet another day in this so-ancient land. Purple Mountain is showing you why it bears ihat name. lVe are weary, and the ricksha men know it. Their Smiles grgw more ingratiating, and we relent. The old ponds are quiet vvhere all day long the women have gathered water-chestnuts in wooden washtubs, and beaten dirty clothes clean upon a board. Now in the purple and Silver