That one good-looking. Him close up sixty pound longa China,"
was rather disconcerting praise of a very particular lady friend.
A brass lamp was looked upon as a monument of solid wealth, "Him gold,"
he decided, insisting it was in the face of all denials. "Him gold. Me
savey gold all right. Me live longa California long time," he said,
bringing forward a most convincing argument; and, dismissing the subject
with one of his Podsnapian waves, he decided that a silver-coloured
composition flower-bowl in the form of a swan was solid silver; "Him sing
out all a same silver," he said, making it ring with a flick of his
finger and thumb, when I differed from him, and knowing Cheon by now, we
left it at that for the time being.
After wandering through several trunks and gloating over blouses, and
skirts, and house-linen, and old friends the books were opened up, and
before the Maluka became lost to the world Cheon favoured them with a
passing glance. "Big mob book," he said indifferently, and turned his
attention to the last trunk of all.
Near the top was a silver filigree candlestick moulded into the form of a
Convolvulus flower and leaf - a dainty little thing, but it appeared
ridiculous to Cheon's commonsense mind.
"Him silly fellow," he scoffed, and appealed to the Maluka for his
opinion:
