Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-01-12

60 1T had happened at last! The thing that
we had dreaded.
'More better said the boy now in pidgin-
English for my benefit, more better go Man.
king. Maybe that side more better. BY and
by this side more trouble" and he Swooped
down on the lately packed bags. Thus like
kind of mother hen did he fguratively gather
up his flock against the hawk.
what happened" asked my husband.
"Oh, 60 came over the wall tied the gate
man, took the white man out of bed"
But the boy was through with that He be-
gan in pidgin- English again. missile, more
better take anyman wife go Marking side. This
Winter plenty trouble. Coolie. washman. gar
denman, all talkee he wantchee takee wife.
Eyes," I answered, thinking one minute OF
what had happened to one of our number and
the next of these wives Of my servants and
that I must take them, knowing all too well
what the women Of Human would have to en-
dure this Winter
This arranged, the boy was ready to tell US
. little more of our friend He had been car
ried off in his pajamaS and q pair Of shoes.
Even a hat they had denied him, although they
had stayed some two hours trying to set fire
to the oil stocks. He was the eldest man in
our community man of 60, and we thought
gravely of him tramping the hills in the tropic
heat without any covering from the sun.
little later news came from some mystic
rious source that man carrying an umbrella
in his right hand and white towel in his left
was to meet representative of the kidnapers
outside the north gate at noon. Our tragedy
seemed bound to take on the fantastic elements
of movie scene.
The day wore on The man chosen to
carry the umbrella and the towel came back
with the ultimatum-$4o,o 900 by tomorrow noon
or the head Of our friend returned to us in a
basket. Were we living back in the dark ages
or in a twentieth century democratic country?
Night came on, our last night in the capital
Of Human, the night of our farewell party given
by the little community. In one of the gar
dens on the island the paper lanterns were set
aglow. And we looked across at the usual and
beautiful spectacle of the city with its row Of
hotels with their Enthusiastically arranged lights
throwing patterns on to the dark water of the
river. In twos and threes We wandered about
the lawn.
All as beautiful fairyland except the
fear in our hearts. One of our very own num-
Der on night just like this, even last night as
We slept, had been taken from his bed, and
now wandered somewhere prisoner. with such
death threatening him in the morning.
The little community sobered, each
wondering if he would be the next. Lucky
people" they said to us as they toasted us. ito
be going away"
Thus for the last time we made merry with
neighbors this island in the center OF
China, but the party dragged a little. Some
constantly becoming absent minded
and breaking in with the remark, poor Jimmy
Moore. wonder where he Is tonight" or ITS
rumored Jimmy Moore is being held just out
side the city gate" He might even be in sight
of the lights of our island.
And so we departed from Human. But the
Hunanese we're left. They could not depart.
And If they went where would they go? Most
of the provinces were the same. Backwards
and forwards over them flew the shuttle of
war.
To us, at that time, Marking seemed TO