cker. There was no
door-knocker! I immediately interviewed Inchie and asked him to help me
to design a door-knocker. Seeing that the only doors they have in Japan
are sliding ones made of tissue paper, it was some time before Inchie
could comprehend my meaning. "I no understand why you want to knock at
the door. Very funny that!" he said. I explained that in England it was
necessary to have very strong doors which one could not leave open lest
people should come in and steal. He blinked his little eyes and looked
up at me intelligently: "I understand!" he exclaimed, "berry number one
bad Chinaman come and steal." "No," I said, "not Chinaman, but
Englishman." "I no understand," he repeated. After much pantomime and
talk I at last conveyed to him a fairly good idea of what was needed in
the way of a door-knocker, and sent him home to work out some suitable
design. Three days after he came back carrying under his arm a huge roll
of drawings, which he proceeded to unfold on the floor. A glance was
enough to show me that the little fellow had not got hold of the kind of
door-knocker I required, and I watched him with a limp and hopeless
feeling. "Go on, Inchie: explain it," I said. He was in very good
condition this morning--pleased with himself and the world in general,
and more especially with his door-knocker design. Drawing in his breath
with a little satisfied hiss, he began: "Now, you see, you first put on
the door a large chrysanthemum in bronze," and Inchie went through the
performance in pantomime. "In the centre of this chrysanthemum a rod of
steel must be fixed five inches in length. Suspended from the rod of
steel must be a silk cord about five inches in length, and attached to
the cord a marble about the size of a child's playing marble. Underneath
the large chrysanthemum, and in line with the marble, should be placed
another chrysanthemum with a miniature gong in the centre three-quarters
of an inch in diameter." "Wait a bit, Inchie," I cried, for this
description was too much for me--I must digest it more slowly. I
pictured to myself the strings of children that pass and repass my house
in Cadogan Gardens on their way to and from school, and their feelings
concerning this small metal ball waving in the soft wind of a summer's
afternoon on its apple-green cord. It would be too gorgeous an
attraction by far! No child could have the heart to destroy so rare a
thing at once, it would be far too great a joy; they wou