Play With Your Own Marbles And Other Stories

The Chinese Boy and Girl And Other Stories

When Mrs. Spring Fragrance first arrived in Seattle, she was unacquainted with even one word of the American language. Five years later her husband, speaking of her, said: “There are no more American words for her learning.” And everyone who knew Mrs. Spring Fragrance agreed with Mr. Spring Fragrance. Mr. Spring Fragrance, whose business name was Sing Yook, was a young curio merchant. Though conservatively Chinese in many respects, he was at the same time what is called by the Westerners, “Americanized.” Mrs. Spring Fragrance was even more “Americanized.” Next door to the Spring Fragrances lived the Chin Yuens. Mrs. Chin Yuen was much older than Mrs. Spring Fragrance; but she had a daughter of eighteen with whom Mrs. Spring Fragrance was on terms of great friendship. The daughter was a pretty girl whose Chinese name was Mai Gwi Far (a rose) and whose American name was Laura. Nearly everybody called her Laura, even her parents and Chinese friends. Laura had a sweetheart, a youth named Kai Tzu. Kai Tzu, who was American-born, and as ruddy and stalwart as any young Westerner, was noted amongst baseball players as one of the finest pitchers on the Coast. He could also sing, “Drink to me only with thine eyes,” to Laura’s piano accompaniment. Now the only person who knew that Kai Tzu loved Laura and that Laura loved Kai Tzu, was Mrs. Spring Fragrance. The reason for this was that, although the Chin Yuen parents lived in a house furnished in American style, and wore American clothes, yet they religiously observed many Chinese customs, and their ideals of life were the ideals of their Chinese forefathers. Therefore, they had betrothed their daughter, Laura, at the age of fifteen, to the eldest son of the Chinese Government school-teacher in San Francisco. The time for the consummation of the betrothal was approaching. Laura was with Mrs. Spring Fragrance and Mrs. Spring Fragrance was trying to cheer her. “I had such a pretty walk today,” said she. “I crossed the banks above the beach and came back by the long road. In the green grass the daffodils were blowing, in the cottage gardens the currant bushes were flowering, and in the air was the perfume of the wallflower. I wished, Laura, that you were with me.” Laura burst into tears. “That is the walk,” she sobbed, “Kai Tzu and I so love; but never, ah, never, can we take it together again.”

The Publishers' Circular and General Record of British and Foreign Literature

Reno (by the) in the Lake and Other Stories

I guess, in truth, “Reno by the/in the Lake” is my “Autobiography Light.” The material is indeed autobiographical in that little has been gleaned from any outside source and it is definitely light both in serious content and the serious nature often portrayed by an autobiography. So read on just for fun. Reno Beach was a magical place in the 1920s, ’30s, ’40s and ’50s, a resort town that never really quite reached its prime. It had, however attained great stature in the hearts and minds of all it entertained, especially in the imagination of a young boy who could see adventure, even in the smallest buttonhole or banal blemish. In his mind a vegetable garden became a wilderness plantation. An overturned rowboat became a fortress, a pirate’s treasure cave or a magician’s maudlin mansion. A willow tree only recently uprooted by the wind and waves of an angry possessive lake trying desperately to reclaim its own; this became the perfect home for “Tarzan (Jimmie) of the Apes.” The fact that I’m even writing this book belies the fact that the place and that little boy still live, if only in my imagination. The stories you’re about to read are about that small waterfront community just east of Toledo Ohio on the western end of Lake Erie and how it’s life; death and frequent revitalizations affected the life of one small boy, namely me. The stories are absolutely true except as altered by an aging memory, wishful thinking and delusions of grandeur, not necessarily in that order, and they represent some of the very best days of my life. I’ve been told that it’s good to share your very best. I hope you enjoy reading my stories nearly as much as I enjoyed living them. The writing’s been fun too. Some names and places may have been altered to protect the innocent and/or the guilty, but not many. Some may also be changed just because I’ve forgotten or don’t really know what I’m talking about. Please forgive me. Many may recognize themselves, a friend or family member in some of these stories and each one probably deserves whatever treatment or attention they received, either good or bad. This book is intended to be a “Bathroom Book.” This is not a negative. For those unable to grasp this creative terminology I provide the following explanation in the form of a prescription: Take in small doses. Continuous exposure could be hazardous to your health and could lead to an abrasive situation requiring an immediate application of Preparation “H.” This does not imply that either you the reader or the writer is full of . . . Anything. Should you disapprove of any of the material in this book please feel free to remove the offending pages and put them to better use right there in the “Reading Room” solving the problems of the moment. I’m sure you understand. Enjoy. Life is short. Don’t waste it on seriousness.