KNEW A YOGI.
TEASHOP ENCOUNTER.
AUCKLANDER'S FRIENDSHIP.
CHARLES ARNOLD—AGED 1 10.
"Tt lias been <=airl that Tam 120 voars old. T don t think so. T may be 110 Wut I would not lio suit."
This was a remark made in all seriousness over a supper table in a small restaurant in Canning Town. London. 14 id recollections of this strange encounter came to Mr. H. IT. Stewart, of Eileen Lane. Auckland. the other nisfht when he read an "Auckland Star'' air mail message about the birthday of Mr. Charles Arnold. l.ondon-born Yogi. 1' or it was the same Charles Arnold that sat and chatted to Mr. Stewart in the little Lvons teashop one night five years ago.
"It came to me immediately T sat down that here was a remarkable man." Mr. Stewart related to-dav. "He was tiny, with bright eyes and the complexion ot a young man. Xot one urev hair marred his smooth, black brusliback. He was dressed in conventional London style: check suit, white collar and black bow tie."' Coffee in conversation sprang tip. as co iver>ations do, and the talk got round to the London of the eaiiy part of last cent in y. "N ou know. 1 was present at the coronation festivities of Queen Victoria,"' said the little man. He Was Older Than That! "But that was nearly 100 years ago." exclaimed Mr. Stewtirt. "Oh. I'm older than that. I do not Unite know how old 1 am. You see, I was born before they issued birth certificates and I cannot be certain.'' "Mut how are you so well-preserved?" "I am a Yogi." Surely a icmarkable adventure. It was an adventure that was to bring Mr. Stow«rt into friendship with a man the likes ot whom would never be met except by an unaccountable twist of Fate.
"More coffee?" "\es, I will have another cup." said Mr. Arnold. "But it is not usual for mc to do so. [ eat onlv three times a week. That is part of mv cult''
And lie unfolded tils extraordinary tale. He learned the cult many, many yens ago. he explained, during a trip to India. He had travelled a very great. deal, and was looking forward to doing more travelling. (A fact borne out by the London cable to the effect that, on his avowedly 110 th birthday he was applying for a United States passport). At the time of this meeting Mr. Arnold said he was writing a l>ook of his experiences, and subsequently he showed a portion of the manuscript to -Mr. Stewart. Could Not Find Work. "But at the moment I am looking for work." continued the little Yogi. "I find myself unable to find it. Look, my hands are so small and fragile." Here. Mr. Stewart recalls, Mr. Arnold lay on the table a pair of the tiniest hand* he had ever seen. "They would be | no bigger than those of «i .small boy of, eays, 10 years old," he said. Out of this meeting grew a friendship. Many times Mr. Arnold went to supper with his New Zealand acquaintance. "I was never able to find out bow he kept himself," said Mr. Stewart. "He did nothing to my knowledge. I gathered that at one time he had established an institute in London to teach the cult of Yoga, but he admitted sadly that people had lookc 1 on it as a 'black art' and he had been forced to give up the project. Great Depth of Character. "As for the ni;n himself, 1 find it difficult to descril " him," continued Mr. Stewart. "He seemed to have a depth of character that was unfathomable and a wisdom beyond this world. Physically he was a man of S(J; mentally he seemed even younger. 1 can only look back with amazement at this tiny little man, only sft tall, whose Swami teacher, himself a man 14S years old, predicted would live to be 200 years old."
The most vivid story of the astound ing little London Yogi which Mr. Stew art recalls seems to typify the philoso phv of Charles Arnold.
"It was ' a wet and stormy night," Mr. Stewart recounted. "We were at that same Canning Town teashop sipping coffee. My friend made a move to go. He had no hat, no coat. I saw he would get wet through and probably catch his death of cold. Could I get him a cab? I asked."
"Oh, no," said Mr. Arnold firmly. "I shall be perfectly all right. Be here in three days at the same time and we will have supper together." With that he went out into the night. Three days later lie was back. Mr. Stewart wondered how lie had fared. "'Didn't you suffer any ill-effects from the storm? A cold, or a chill?"
The little Yogi seemed surprised. "Oh, no," he said. "My body was wet, but I was perfectly dry."
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Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 190, 14 August 1939, Page 10
Word Count
820KNEW A YOGI. Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 190, 14 August 1939, Page 10
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