Warrior Gentlemen

Bread and Butter

A month passed in gainful unemployment. By and by, the scholar boy picked up the skills needed for independent living. His learning came from a venerable text: Mrs Smith's Cookbook, or The Female Economist. Mr Adam passed him this volume from a pile of books he shelved under his desk, covered by an 'anti-moth' linen sheet. Mrs Smith's book was one the master had read himself as a frugal young man. Receiving the treasure with both hands, Kyung said:

"Thank you. I will study it seriously."

Cookbooks, written by wise women, contained the secrets to keeping the house clean and comfortable. Cooking, laundry, sewing, and tricks of economy were all necessary to preserve the peace and harmony of a warm home. For added warmth, the elder had, on their sixth day together, instructed the boy to drop the 'Mister'.

"Adam."

"Kyung."

These were to be their modes of address from now on. Studying a page on sleepware, it took two days for Kyung to craft a serviceable pillow. Cut into a rectangle measuring 18 x 16 inches, stitched messily at the seams, and stuffed with cotton, an old shirt gained new life as a homemade pillow. The feat earned a boy seamstress some praise and an Osbourne's biscuit. A tin of these things was kept at home for encouragement. When Kyung patched up their worn quilt blanket, he earned another biscuit.

Regarding meals: Mrs Smith, in the chapter on pantry-keeping, suggested the consumption of meat five times a week. No more, no less. Her male disciple said: Breakfast should be limited to coffee, bread, and butter. Fray Bentos, slid into sandwiches, could make a decent lunch (this did not count as meat).

Dinner was their chief meal, being the only one deserving of meat. On market days, the pair filled their shopping basket with ox cheeks, onions, chickpeas, carrots, celery, potatoes, herring, and eggs. Ox-cheeks, onions, chickpeas, carrots, and celery could be cooked into a hearty stew. Tatties, baked or thrown into the pan, was their trusty staple.

"Tatties with eggs or tatties with herring?"

Kyung tied a yellowed apron around his waist at six O' clock every evening. From a distance of five feet, he'd ask after the master's choice of dinner. When Master Adam works on his book illustrations, his little friend must stay five feet away. It was a house rule. Glad to see it obeyed, the artist would say: "tatties with eggs, please", or 'I think it's fish today, darling." Please's and darling's were part of the formula for a happy home. Though it wasn't touched on in Mrs Smith's book, Adam knew it all the same. Raised to be a gentleman, he was never discourteous towards his junior. The boy tried his best. Serving his master undercooked tatties and burnt herring, he blushed adorably.

"Shall I try again?"

The master said 'no' and beckoned him to join him at the table. Unlike the other occupants of their lodging, the two attic lads ate in privacy upstairs. Back then, Mr Adam would cook and eat alone in the kitchen while the three Chinamen spent the evening chattering in the shop and Fan Tanning. Since it was a game of chance and there were four possible bets: 1, 2, 3, 4, it made sense for a fourth man to join in. One night, Shing offered to let him join and receiving a 'no thank you', turned him forever into the leper of Limehouse.

Their neighborhood was two streets of Chinamen with one lonely Jap. The pigtails saw him with his short clean hair and called him a 'Yuebungwai'. No one helped him if he got into shit. There could be five pigtails lined up outside a joy shop disguised as a pawn shop but the police would pick on him for some inexplicable reason. Apparently, a mugging had occured in their vicinity and the assailant was described by the victim as a 'tall Chinaman'. Cornered, the suspect told his friends in uniform:

I'm not a criminal or a Chink

Just stopping for a smoke

Real criminals hide in this shop