THREE CHRISTMAS DAYS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8808, 21 December 1906, Page 4

THREE CHRISTMAS DAYS.

♦ (By JOHN FOSTER FRASER.) [All Rights Reserved.] ON BOARD A TRAMP SHIP. We had intended to get back to England for Christmas Day. But the old tub of a tramp ship, whicli had been expected to behave well for once, acted with more than its usual cussedness. We wero bringing cotton and oranges back from Syria and Egypt, had the bunkers piled with an extra quantity of coal, and proposed to keep her driving fast until the anchor was dropped in the Meusey. We had not been three days down the Mediterranean, however, before a fierce storm drove down from the Gulf of Lyons. The ship could toddle along in still water at about eleven knots, but in anything like a gale 6he staggered "and reeled, and, whilst making a terrible commotion, hardly progressed at all. Driving in the teeth of a gale is a big strain on engines. >So we slowed to halfwspeed and then put in a couple «>f days at something between two and i three knots an hour. All tlie time there was blinding snow and sleet. The rudder chains were loose, and the wash showed we were curving drunkenly down the Mediterranean. The pipes burst, and for half a day we lay pitching whilst the engineers were putting i them right again. Then combustion J set up in the bunkers, and the ship j ■was on fire. For a week the ship smouldered, filling the cabins with reek, so i it was impossible to stay below. At j first we thought of running into Malta, I but as mastery had been obtained over j the fire we pushed on. Fire broke out again, then the intention was to put in at Algiers. The mate, who was keen on saving expense, thought we might manage to get as far as Gibraltar. But before we reached the " Gut " of Gib., danger was past, and, by nursing our coal, we thought we might just manage to scrape home. THE BAY OF BISCAY 0! The Mediterranean is usually depicted as a charming sea, smooth as .a lake, and with the bluest of skies overhead. As a matter of fact, it oan, at times, be exceedingly wrath. The weather was vile and cold, and we proceeded under the heaviest of dun clouds. Christmas Eve found us in the Bay- of Biscay, slowly tumbling along in a wild sea. We had no provisions on board for keeping a jolly Christmas, and everybody was blaming the owners for possessing such a crazy old ship, the mate for not getting a fresh, supply of coal at Gibraltar, and' the stokers for packing the coal in such a condition that it eet up combustion. It would have been better to have | made for a port, for by careful calcu- ] lation we had only just enough coal to fet us home under most- favourable conitions, and there was the dreary prospect or burning the woodwork to keep the engines going, or becoming a derelict and being picked up as salvage by. some passing steamer. It was no good forcing the engines, because the things would have burnt; and much coal can be utilised in making comparatively little extra speed against a head gale. In the dreary afternoon we thought j of the preparations at home for Christmastide, and "growled at our fate, that we were compelled to spend the day in such discomforj Just at sundown a -British troopship, flaming with electric light, came racing down on her way to India. We got out the UnioA Jack and gave her a salute; but she never returned it. It was like being snubbed, and we felt no goodwill to all men when the huge steamer went by and disappeared into the black night. A terrific sto-rni prevailed during the

whole of Christmas Day. Our breakfast of biscuit, rancid butter and ship's coffee — which is a particularly obnoxious compound that you never get anywhere but on board a tramp ship — was gulped, and as tho cabin was still filled with the fumes of the fire in the bunkers I spent most of the day in oilskins on the bridge, keeping company with the officer on duty. The engines were slowed down, and Aye reeled along not more than a couple lof knots. Seas were running high and occasionally broke over the vessel, making her stagger and halt before she could get up courage to push on again. A huge wave hit the ship with a big heavy thud ; sho reeled under the blow and creaked from end to end. Norwegian sailors came with tin. basins to tho cook's galley to receive their Christmas dinner, which consisted of slabs of pork and badly-cooked potatoes. They were just making a dash toward the forecastle when we shipped a sea. Christmas dinner and men were engulfed in an avalanche of water. For a moment there was the dread that some of the men might be washed overboard, or through, one of the scuppers which were open to release the seas which landed upon us. The men had lost their dinner, were wet through and battered, but, gateful enough there was no further damage. _ Then their meal had to consist of biscuit and rank' tea. Those of us in the captain's cabin — five all told — did our best to be cheerful under depressing circumstances. We had no roast beef and no plum pudding. The cook unearthed some tinned rabbit, and on© of the officers managed to produce a bottle of stout. I We fed in the dull glow of a smoky lamp, and attempted mild jocularity by pretending that the highly-flavoured rabbit was the best beef w© had ever eaten, whilst the biscuits, when you came to think of it, were really more wholesome than plum pudding. We toasted one another from the same glass of stout. Also we 6moked much rank tobacco until we forgot the coal fumes Avhich had mado our eyes ache jfor the better part of a fortnight. Suddenly we ran out of the storm. The much-abused Bay of Biscay settled to calmness. Almost a summer fragrance came into the air. and the sunset was gorgeous. We overtook a three-master, which was making practically no way at all. Running close I up to her, wo wished her a Merry I Christmas, though ours had not beon particularly jovial. Then we told her the position *in which she was, as she had got a little out cf her reckoning. Finally, they asked us if we had any tea. They had run short, and would Ibe grateful for 'some. A boat was lowered, and we sent a canister to the old wind-jammer. We received not only a shouting thanks, but a bottle of rum. So we managed to do a good action that Christmas Day ; and before we tumbled in there was no rum left. IN PERSIA. The following Christmas I found myself, in Teheran, the capital of Persia. There is in that far eastern city a little colony of British people — some resident at the British Legation, and some engaged in the service of the Indo-Euro-pean telegraph line. The Britisher abroad is supposed to be adaptable. But wherever he be he loves to have a Christmas much on the plan he would have if he were in the Old Country. Teheran is a re-transmitting station on the telegraph line which has one ond in -London and the other end in Calcutta. When Christmas morning came in London the operator sent the message, " A Merry Christmas," along the Jine. It travelled across Germany, Rusleia, over Caucasus Mountains, down through Persia, and across India. Each operator received it and passed it on to the next man two or three hundred j miles away. 1 It was a charming Christmas — tho air as genial as May time at home. We

had sports. In the morning there was football on the Meidan, tlie great square where the Shah reviews his troops. The drowsy-eyed, slither-heel-ed Moslems stood around watching tlie game, convinced, no doubt, that Christians wero not on ly dogs;, but idiots, that they should put themselves to to much exertion and pretend to find amusement in it. It is not always balmy at Teheran. Indeed, the winters are at times severe, and tho Englishmen who tako out their skates are able to have, a good time upon the ice. The late Shah, Nasr-i-Din, one Christmastide saw Englishmen enjoying themselves on the ice. He waa so captivated with their gyrations that the next day he borrowed a dozen pairs of skates, insisted on his Ministors of State putting them on, and then shrieked with laughter whilst the poor gentlemen fell about in grotesque attitudes, to the .accompaniment of convulsed langhter of others beeides liis Majesty. That night the then British Minister, Sir Mortimer Durand, entertained the British residents at dinner. There was tho Legation staff ; Consuls who had ridden on horseback several hundred milea to spend a pleasant day or two; a couple of world-wanderers like myself; several missionaries; a bunch of telegraph 'operators, and a cheery old Lancastrian who had been out a year fitting machinery for an industrial enterprise by which one of the great p>ashas hoped to make his fortune. That night there wae much dancing. It vra& hard to realise that one was thousands of miles from home. Witli a secretary of the Legation I happened to saunter into one of the corridors, and there met the old Lancastrian with one of the English maids whirling in excited dance, quite different from the dancing methods of those in the ballroom. We laughed as we watched the scene. " Eh," said the Lancastrian, ''they don't know how to dance in there. This is the real way to danee — the way they dance at Bellevne in Manchester." And anyone who had crcen. a Bank Holiday crowd dancing at Bello- i vue will know the eccentricities of the performance. Noxt Christmas Day wae spent in far Cathay. There arc parts of Shanghai which do not in any way suggest • China — rather you might imagine yourself amongst au English population, with Chinese servants and coolies. Christmas Day in the Far East is a genuine bit of transplanted Oid England. Most of the British colony have resided for many years in Shanghai, and not a lew of them were born out there. The Bubbling Well Road might easilj- be irisiaken for the suburbs of any town at Home. There is an excellent club, where at mid -day, over the appetising cocktail, most of the business of the port is done. There are no more hospitable, kindly people, intent on giving the visitor a gcod time, than the British colony in Shanghai. No wonder then that junketing is a prominent feature of the Christmas holidays. Everybody fetes everybody else. There' are capital amateur theatrical performances, dinner parties and dances, and if anybody is inclined to be homesick they soon find that Shanghai is an excellent substitute for home. I shall always bear in kindly recollection the Christmas Day I spent at Shanghai;. A couple of British gunboats were lying in the river, and the bright frosty morning was spent in vieiting tin* officers on both. At midday the principal residents were entertained at lunch by some of the most hospital] je of all those hospitable folks. In the afternoon were steeplechase races, and some wild helter-skelter run-

ning acrcos broken country, and in the evening every British hou^e had ite party. By way of contrast to the very Englishness of the day, I wound up the evening by paying a visit to a Chinese theatre in a very Chinese part of the town. The Celestials knew that the foreign devils had been indulging in a lot of "joss-pidgin" business, that work was at a standstill, and in the reflect ion of the English holiday tho Chinese themselves took holiday and crowded to the theatres. The play was a very solemn, melodramatic, highly-coloured representation which I do not pretend to have understood. Tlie chief performer was a green-visa 6 ed creature who shrieked in falsetto tones at everything and everybody, whirled round like a demented dervish, and then fell to the ground in a swoon. The only thing for a vagabond Briton like niyeelf aud my companions, who had enjoyed a good Christmas Day, was to pretend we were seeing a pantomime. Tbat was an excellent idea; only we differed as to whether we were witnessing " Bluebeard," cr " Little Red ! Riding Hood." I believe a Chinese play runs for four or five weeks ; so, although we did not leave it until near midnight, we had seen but an infinitesimal part of the performance. As we were sauntering back fo out hotel w*e caw a Chinese temple. Tapers were flickering before hideous Chinese gods. A littlo further on was a humble building where Christians had with worship celebrated the day. China is indeed a land of contrasts ; but perhaps there is no greater contrast than to pass from a plain little Christian room of worship to a gilded Chinese

i ! temple with villainous gods leering ' | upon you. At the missionary stations ■ are to be found converted Chinese. ' I Their brother Celestials call them ! rice Christians." They cay that as | they eat the foreign devils' rice it ie only iair they should worship the -same , joss. In far-off corners of China that j Ohnstmas Day was celebrated by the j missionaries with, no doubt, many a j thought toward home. lam not one ! ; of those who believe that very much is being done in the way of conversion amongst the Celestials* but I saw enough of the missionaries when I went wanderiug through China to appreciato their earnestness, and to recognise the good work they were acI complishing among the Chinese by the j example of their liyes.