The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 12, 1899, Page 17

0000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000000000 KONG HE FA CHOY CCOCCO00CO0C000000Q0000000000000000CC00C0C00000000 00000 o (] (] [+ (] JOYS OF THE CHINESE NEW TEAR Together With the Beautiful Legend of the Lily, the National Flower, and the True Story of the Dragon and the Pearl. the Joss House, we found all a blaze of light and color. The acolytes on duty attended the many who were anxious to worship at the sacred shrine, with ifs perpetual light representing the immortality of man. The scene was strange and weird. Before the altar, with queue un- rolled, knelt a devotee. In his hands he clasped two bits of wood rounded on one side and flat on the other, which he repeatedly tossed in the air as he mumbled his prayers to the Deity. “'Oh, thou above, indicate to me by the fall of these blocks if my prayers will be answered.” ! “Oh, thou creator of mankind, should the blocks fall upon the flat surface I interpret it that my prayers are answered in the affirmative.” . . “Three times do I touch my forehead to earth in obeisance to thee”—then the blocks are thrown aloft and fall at will, but as one may imagine, according to’ the strict laws of gravity they usually fall upon the rounded side, this being much the heavier. Again the fatalist accepts the inevitable. Another throw—another prayer. Again the flat side is uppermost. With the patience born of cTturles of blind faith and persistency he makes another cast. By the dim light of the flickering oil lamp we can see that he has been successful—the rounded side is uppermost. He arises from his devotions upheld by the faith of his persistency and his forefathers, v at midnight the Chinese New Year began. ur hundred mill of people had a birthday. ning, each person considers atal day. of St. Mary's tolled the hour d in solemn boom on the great ple of Heaven, two blocks away on Waverly of the bell there was a r-r-r-rip—boom—bang; a shrill treble to the deep bass of the bamboo he proprietor, with hands clasped and aluta s of all his subordinates. nts from one store to the nd wish him prosperity. he salutation with which w every well-posted San Fran- New Year” in Chinese. " Well, it is g to the freest possible translation it 1d prosperity.” alize what a remarkably rare enter- d at this peculiar festival which prob- d world is possible. lor effects; musicians are deeply on of the old Greek scale which ric music of the strident Chinese Dixon, the artist, I started to make China,” which is situated in the n after years of residence in China f into the belief that I was living s scene in a Chinese city. y the same old odors which the Suez to Yokohama, meet y turr congestion of Mongolian ry color of the rainbow New Years callers. We narrow street and observed a bit for which all Orientals are noted— ck in trade was the Suey Sin Fah T of the narcissus family, which k The faith of the woman and chila was con- vear meant health, wealth and pros- very window sfil was the bloom- the story of the water spirit lily! of the people, centuries ago there Central China a good and wise old e to study. He was a scholar of great His commercial instincts were few and he found that his small store of worldly urchase of books, and he was destitute. he fell on his knees and kow-towed to ked for help to sustain his failing body until er was heard in high heaven by spirit who asked: ‘“What 1: “Only the wherewithal that on earth.” The spirit handed the old d in silk and said: “The contents ame and prosperity. Guard it well.” lumber and awoke at sunrise and silk package, which he had pre- Tearing the wrapping asunder he dis- dried up bulbs, most unostentatious in ap- se. “Here have I devoted my life to YTeligion yeelf helpless. I pray to my om Heaven and, in answer e worthless bits of decaying 2; the soll is but gravel; only the In;ld can help to sustain my failing thirst.” s bulbs in his palsied palm and threw th t and grew. In time they bloomed, licate and fragrant blossom, which soon became i 8 ge as it may seem in no other this peculiar flower be grown. to the old student’s wondrous nursery, fostered five years he became the richest of China's flockec , and in and exclaims: “All will be well with me and mine.” a comfortable belief! From the temple to the house of the opulent merchant is but a step from the religious to the commercial 'side of our diminutive Orfent. The merchant had returned to his place of business and each member of his household was prostrate before the family shrine, with- out which no Chinese residence is complete. Over the little altar, rep- resenting the ancestors of this particular house, was a picture of a peculiar trinity ch is noticeable in every Chinese house during the New Year's festivities. It represents a man with flowing mus tache and hair dressed in a most peculiar manner. He is accom- panied by two attendants, which one might mistake for women, but in reality they are boys. This is Quong Kung—the god of war, who centuries ago was known as the most honest man in all China. He was presumed to have descended from heaven and fought the battles of the empire until no foes were left to conquer. In gratitude for his devotion and services he was beheaded by the ruling dynasty and, through sympathy, his two devoted followers took their lives and were buried with their beloved leader. As we stepped into the street the brilllantly lighted roof gardens, decorated in true Oriental style, attracted our attention. It is a bit of importation from the Far East, most picturesque and attractive to the Occidental eye. Every piece of shrubbery and verdure is in miniature. Dwarf trees of great age rest in diminutive jars, with their gnarled and twisted trunks and branches presenting a most grotesque and interesting sight to the experienced Western horti- culturist. Above each building floats the national ensign of China— the Dragon and the Pearl. Here is another bit of legendary lore. From the dragon, which is a heavenly body, presumably descended the rulers of the empire. The dragon is supposed to be the embodi- ment of all wisdom and learning. Just before his distended jaws is ‘what appears to the uninitiated a ball of fire. It is a pearl, the recog- nized gem of the Orient. This pearl is symbolical of all his con- centrated energy, which he keeps constantly in view, that mankind may not be deprived of the wisdom of heaven, which is annually transmitted to the sages who dwell upon the earth. From the homes of the opulent we force our way through the crowd of merrymakers along Dupont to Jackson street, finally reach- ing the very heart of the ragpickers’ quarter. How fare the poor on this joyous holiday? Alas, it is the same the world over—'they are always with us.” - Follow along this noisome, reeking alley, descend this creaking stairway and stand, as it were, in the very bowels of the earth. Here is Charlle, the pickpocket, with his cat, which, like its master, is an opium fiend. Charlie is opulent to-night. We have to do with worse than mere poverty, with wretchedness and squalor and black misery. Descending yet lower we enter a subcellar reeking and foul. In a narrow, brick-walled cell we find old Wong Sing, once king of the ragpickers, stretched upon a shred of clean matting in deference to the day, inhaling opium. Sing is reticent at the outset and seems to resent the intrusion of the Western barbarian. When addressed in his own language, however, the old man gradually grows loquacious and seems inclined to answer questions and to chat quite comfortably on, the subject of the hour. In deference to his age I addressed him as “O, father.” This seems to please the old man. The gift of several nickels added to his good nature. He arose with dignity and asked me to translate his thanks to the young man of the nickels. “O, son!” he exclaimed, “does this man speak our language? “No,” I answered, “he understands not a word of the classics.” “But surely he is a scholar and well-mannered, for he is kind to the poor and aged. Ah, well, it has been written that there were ‘wise men in the West. Say to him that his children will be blessed. May they never know want.” ¥ “Father, you have a wife, of course?” “Ah, yes. And she is still in her ancestral home and here have I been for twenty years in the new world—the land of gold—and am not yet able to return and bid the poor woman be of good heart.” “Then you grieve, O father, for the wife at home?” 2 “Yes, son. But this,” he exclaimed fondly patt! ™ his pipe, “brings her back to ms " £ Indeed, this is Out of this foul dungeon, the very walls of which are reeking with slime so suggestive of perspiration, we find ourselves once more in the brilliantly lighted stree It is refreshing to breathe something like pure air again. Each moment the highways are becoming more crowded and the color effect more confusing. Silks and satins of every imaginable hue, woven in the most gorgeous design: the long graceful gown of the Confucian scholar worn by prince and house servant alike, make up a scene one need not expect to witness in any other part of the civilized world. . i g,\fg'\‘;?; il The din is becoming frightful. Long festoons of firecrackers, ex- tending, in some cases, from the roofs of buildings to the very street below, make a racket that would enthuse the heart of any American boy with an ounce of Fourth of July in his makeup. ‘We are obliged to pick our way carefully and keep a sharp eye skyward in order t6 avold the loads of fireworks that are thrown from windows and housetops. Not a word of complaint do we hear; no one seems offended, all are determined to have a good time. ‘W. C. BUNNER.