At
the end of half an hour, I whispered, "Twice a week will do." In fifteen
minutes more, I said, "I think we will go out now. I can't endure this
racket another minute. But, nevertheless, I shall come once more, with
an interpreter. I must and will know what all this mummery means."

The friend smiled again incredulously. But we did go again, with an
interpreter; and the drollest thing of all was to find out how very
little all the caterwauling and rushing and bending and bawling and
sweeping and strutting really meant. The difficulty of getting an
interpreter was another interesting feature in the occasion. A lady, who
had formerly been a missionary in China, had promised to go with us;
and, as even she was not sure of being able to understand Chinese
caterwauled, she proposed to take one of the boys from the missionary
school, to interpret to her before she interpreted to us. So we drove to
the school. Mrs. ---- went in. The time seemed very long that we waited.
At last she came back, looking both amused and vexed, to report that not
one of those intelligent Christian Chinese would leave his studies that
evening to go to the theatre.

"I suppose it is an old story to them," said I.

"Not at all," said she. "On the contrary, hardly a boy there has been
inside the theatre. But they cannot bear to lose a minute from their
lessons. Mr. Loomis really urged some of them; but it was of no use."

In a grocery store on Kearny Street, however, we found a clever young
man, less absorbed in learning; and he went with us as interpreter.
Again the same hideous din; the same clouds of smoke; the same hubbub of
caterwauling. But the _dramatis personae_ were few. Luckily for us, our
first lesson in the Chinese drama was to be a simple one. And here I
pause, considering whether my account of the play will be believed. This
is the traveller's great perplexity. The incredible things are always
the only things worth telling; but is it best to tell them?

The actors in this play were three,--a lady of rank, her son, and her
man cook. The play opened with a soliloquy by the lady. She is sitting
alone, sewing. Her husband has gone to America; he did not bid her
farewell. Her only son is at school. She is sad and lonely. She weeps.

Enter boy. He asks if dinner is ready.

Enter cook. Cook says it is not time. Boy says he wants dinner. Cook
says he shall not have it. This takes fifteen minutes.

Mother examines boy on his lessons. Boy