United States or Andorra ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Chonkina, Chonkina," it seemed to be beating. The rickshaws turned into a broader street with houses taller and more commanding than any seen hitherto. They were built of brown wood like big Swiss chalets, and were hung with red paper lanterns like huge ripe cherries.
They sang a harsh faltering song without any apparent relation to the accompaniment played by that austere dame. Chonkina! Chonkina! The six little figures swayed to and fro. Chonkina! Chonkina! Hoi! With a sharp cry the song and dance stopped abruptly. The six dancers stood rigid with hands held out in different attitudes. One of them had lost the first round and must pay forfeit.
As soon as the meal was over, Asako went to bed. She was tired out by an orgy of sight-seeing and new impressions. Geoffrey said that he would have a short walk and a smoke before turning in. He took the road which led towards the harbour of Nagasaki. Chonkina, Chonkina, Chon, Chon, Kina, Kina, Yokohama, Nagasaki, Hakodate Hoi!
He spoke with the precise eloquence of intoxication, and as he flopped to the ground again Wigram clapped him on the shoulder with a "Bravo, old man!" Geoffrey felt very silent and rather sick. Chonkina! Chonkina! The little women made a show of modesty, hiding their faces behind their long kimono sleeves.
Chonkina! Chonkina! As though in answer to his incantation, Geoffrey suddenly came upon Wigram. Wigram had been a fellow-passenger on board the steamer. He was an old Etonian; and this was really the only bond between the two men. For Wigram was short, fat and flabby, dull-eyed and pasty-faced. He spoke with a drawl; he had literary pretensions and he was travelling for pleasure.
Off came the broad embroidered sash. It was thrown aside, and the raucous singing began afresh. Chonkina! Chonkina! Hoi! The same girl lost again; and amid shrill titterings the gorgeous scarlet kimono fell to the ground. She was left standing in a pretty blue under-kimono of light silk with a pale pink design of cherry-blossoms starred all over it. Chonkina! Chonkina!
Geoffrey from behind the fumes of the pipe-smoke watched the unreal phantasmagoria as he might have watched a dream. Chonkina! Chonkina! The dance was more expressive now, not of art but of mere animalism. The bodies shook and squirmed. The faces were screwed up to express an ecstacy of sensual delight. The little fingers twitched into immodest gestures. Chonkina! Chonkina! Hoi!
"Seems sleepy enough," answered Geoffrey. "Oh, here! these are just English warehouses and consulates. They're always asleep. But you come with me and see them dance the Chonkina." Geoffrey started at this echo of his own thoughts, but he said, "I must be getting back; my wife will be anxious." "Not yet, not yet. It will be all over in half an hour, and it's worth seeing.
But the strangeness of the place attracted him, and a longing for the first glimpse behind the scenes in this inexplicable new country. Chonkina! Chonkina! Why shouldn't he go? He was introduced to Wigram's friend, Mr. Patterson, a Scotch merchant of Nagasaki, who lurched out of the club in his habitual Saturday evening state of mellow inebriation.
They were both of them young girls. Their breasts were flat and shapeless. The yellow skin ended abruptly at the throat and neck with the powder line. For the neck and face were a glaze of white. The effect of this break was to make the body look as if it had lost its real head under the guillotine, and had received an ill-matched substitute from the surgeon's hands. Chonkina! Chonkina!
Word Of The Day