 | The sayings of Dr. Bushwhacker, and other learned men |  |
I.
A Talk About Tea.
“Sir,” said our learned friend, Dr. Bushwhacker,
“we are indebted to China for the four principal
blessings we enjoy. Tea came from China, the
compass came from China, printing came from China,
and gunpowder came from China—thank God! China,
sir, is an old country, a very old country. There is one
word, sir, we got from China, that is oftener in the
mouths of American people than any other word in the
language. It is cash, sir, cash! That we derive from
the Chinese. It is the name, sir, of the small brass coin
they use, the coin with a square hole in the middle. And
then look at our Franklin; he drew the lightning from
The long-tailed Chinaman, sir. Franklin had no invention;
he never would have invented a kite or a printing-press.
But he could use them, sir, to the best possible
advantage, sir; he had no genius, sir, but he had remarkable
talent and industry. Then, sir, we get our umbrella
from China; the first man that carried an umbrella, in
London, in Queen Anne's reign, was followed by a mob.
That is only one hundred and fifty years ago. We get
the art of making porcelain from China. Our ladies must
thank the Celestials for their tea-pots. Queen Elizabeth
never saw a tea-pot in her life. In 1664, the East India
Company bought two pounds two ounces of tea as a present
for his majesty, King Charles the Second. In 1667,
they imported one hundred pounds of tea. Then, sir,
rose the reign of scandal—Queen Scandal, sir! Then,
sir, rose the intolerable race of waspish spinsters who
sting reputations and defame humanity over their dyspeptic
cups. Then, sir, the astringent principle of the
herb was communicated to the heart, and domestic troubles
were brewed and fomented over the tea-table. Then, sir,
the age of chivalry was over, and women grew acrid and
bitter; then, sir, the first temperance society was founded,
and high duties were laid upon wines, and in consequence
they distilled whiskey instead, which made matters a great
deal better, of course; and all the abominations, all the
difficulties of domestic life, all the curses of living in a
country village; the intolerant canvassing of character,
uncharitable, defamatory, gossiping, tale bearing, whispering,
unwomanly, unchristianlike behavior of those
who set themselves up for patterns over their vile
decoctions, sir, arose with the introduction of tea.
Yes, sir; when the wine-cup gave place to the tea-cup,
then the devil, sir, reached his culminating point. The
curiosity of Eve was bad enough; but, sir, when Eve's
curiosity becomes sharpened by turgid tonics, and scandal
is added to inquisitiveness, and inuendo supplies the
place of truth, and an imperfect digestion is the pilot
instead of charity; then, sir, we must expect to see human
nature vilified, and levity condemned, and good
fellowship condemned, and all good men, from Washington
down, damned by Miss Tittle, and Miss Tattle,
and the Widow Blackleg, and the whole host of tea-drinking
conspirators against social enjoyment.” Here
Dr. Bushwhacker grew purple with eloquence and indignation.
We ventured to remark that he had spoken of
tea “as a blessing” at first. “Yes, sir,” responded Dr.
Bushwhacker, shaking his bushy head, “that reminds
one of Doctor Pangloss. Yes, sir, it is a blessing, but
like all other blessings it must be used temperately, or
else it is a curse! China, sir,” continued the Doctor,
dropping the oratorical, and taking up the historical,
“China, sir, knows nothing of perspective, but she is
great in pigments. Indian ink, sir, is Chinese, so are vermillion
and indigo; the malleable properties of gold, sir,
must thank them for our gold leaf. Gold is not a pigment,
but roast pig is, and Charles Lamb says the origin of
roast pig is Chinese; the beautiful fabric we call silk,
sir, came from the Flowery Nation, so did embroidery,
so did the game of chess, so did fans. In fact, sir, it is
difficult to say what we have not derived from the Chinese.
Cotton, sir, is our great staple, but they wove and
spun long staple and short staple, yellow cotton and white
cotton before Columbus sailed out of the port of Palos in
the Santa Maria.”
“But, Doctor, we want a word with you about tea. A
little information, if you please.”
The Doctor is one of our old Knickerbockers. His
big, bushy head is as familiar as the City Hall. He belongs
to the “God bless you my dear young friend”
school! He is as full of knowledge as an egg is full of
meat. He knows more about China than the Emperor
of the celestial people.
“Tea, my young friend, is a plant that grows in
China, Japan, and other parts of the world. There are
two varieties. Thea nigra and Thea viridis—black tea
and green tea. The same plant, sir, produces both kinds.
Green tea is made by one kind of manipulation, black
tea by another. That is all, sir. The shrub is raised
from seeds like hazel nuts, planted in nurseries; it is set
out when about a foot high; lives for fifteen or twenty
years, grows sometimes as tall as General Scott and
times a year. The first picking is the best, when the
leaves are covered with a whitish down. This is in April,
the next is in May, the next in July, the last in August.
One Chinaman can pick about thirteen pounds of leaves
per day, for which he will receive sixty cash, or six cents.
The green leaves are spread out on bamboo frames to dry
a little, the yellow and old defective leaves are picked out,
then they take up a handful of the leaves, cast them in a
heated pan, get them warmed up, and squeeze out the
superfluous juice; this juice contains an acrid oil, so acrid
as to irritate the hands of the workman. Good God!
think of that, sir, what stuff for the stomach. Then they
dry them slightly in the sun, then every separate leaf is
rolled up into a little ball like a shot, then they throw these
green tea shot into a pan slightly heated, stirring them
up so as to warm every part alike; then they cool the
tea, and the shot are picked out one by one, the best for
the first or finest chop. Every little ball picked over by
hand. Then it is packed, sir. The young leaves make
the `Young Hyson,' the older and stronger leaves the
`Hyson,' the refuse goes by the name of `Hyson Skin,'
the `Gunpowder' and `Imperial' are teas rolled more carefully
in rounder balls than the others. Most of these teas
are colored for our market—colored, sir, with a mixture
of Prussian blue and gypsum; no wonder John Chinaman
calls us outside barbarians, when he knows we drink
half a pound of gypsum and Prussian blue with every
order! Does honest John ever drink such tea? No, sir,
he knows better than that if he does wear a tail.”
“And black tea, you say, is from the same plant,
Doctor?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Robert Fortune brought specimens of
the Thea nigra from the Bohea mountains and compared
them with the Thea viridis, and the plants were identical.
The black tea, sir, is prepared in a different manner from
the other. The leaves are allowed to lie spread out on
the bamboo trays for a considerable time; then they are
thrown up into the air by the workman, tossed about,
beat, patted, until they become soft or flaccid, then tossed
in heaps, allowed to lie until they begin to change color,
then they are tossed in a tea-pan, roasted over a hotter
fire, rolled, shaken out, exposed to the air again, turned
over, partially dried, put in the pan a second time for five
minutes or so, then rolled, tossed over, and tumbled
again, then put into a sieve, put over the fire again, rolled
about, put over again, three or four times, then placed ir
a basket, thickly packed together; the Chinaman makes
a hole through the mass of leaves with his hand to give
vent to the smoke and steam; then over the fire they go,
and remain there until they are perfectly dry—in fact,
sir, until the fire dies out. Then picked, packed, and assorted
for the market. Now, sir, here is the difference
between black tea and green tea, the latter retains all its
acrid properties, it produces nervous irritability, sleeplessness,
chew it, sir, you can sit and listen to Dr.—'s sermon
and keep wide awake sir—a thing impossible to do under
any other circumstances. But black tea has much of this
oil dried out of it, and therefore it is less injurious than
the other; less injurious, I say, not harmless by any
means. Do you ever travel in the country? Well, sir,
there you will see the ravages of green tea, Prussian blue,
and gypsum among the fairest portion of creation—
women! There, sir, you will see pinched-up, penurious,
prying faces—faces made up of a complication of fine
lines, as if all human sympathies had got into a tangle;
necks all wrinkles; fingers, a beautiful exhibition of
bones, ligaments, and tendons; eyes, sharp, restless, inquisitive;
shoulders, drooping; bust, nowhere; viscera,
collapsed, and the muscular system, or the form divine
generally, in a state of dubiety; yes, sir, and all this
comes from the constant use of `Thea viridis,' sir, green
tea, sir. Our forefathers, sir, threw the tea overboard in
Boston harbor; if people knew what we of the faculty
know, sir, they would do the same thing now, sir, with
every chop that comes from the celestial empire.”
| The sayings of Dr. Bushwhacker, and other learned men | |