he adds to my brother's chores and sends him on a frantic tour of all the steamship agents in Shanghai to book passages for 8 or 9 people to India and Europe; to Bankers to cash drafts and exchange money. Quoting from my brother's notes:
"Baba did not seem to know his mind and, up till closing time, Chanji and I were hurried off our feet trying for the impossible. At 5 P.M. we two were in rickshaws going along the Bund towards the hotel. I was exhausted and I said in vexation to Chanji that it was a pity that Baba did not know his own mind, and that I was tired of all this fussing and harrying. Baba did not seem to realize that I had to earn my living and that my other appointments were both important and impossible to postpone. Much of this present shipping business seemed unnecessary.
"I was called into Baba's room and ticked off by Baba: if I worried like this, it was no use my working for Baba! After my original brief visit with Baba in England, and nine months exile in a very disturbed China, this was the sequel: another test!"
That same evening they all visited a Chinese restaurant and attempted to eat a wonderful feast with chopsticks. Later they walked behind the racecourse, then took rickshaws — seven in a row — and went to a big cinema in French Town.
At 11 P.M. they were due at the station and my brother was on tenterhooks for he knew Baba was running it too close — out to dinner and a late cinema. However, they took a motor and arrived at the station as the train was due to leave. The hotel porter was struggling with loads of, to my brother's thinking, unnecessary luggage as usual. Baba asked my brother if he thought they could rush the train or not? They attempted. The boys struggled into the crowded second-class carriages (full of Chinese, sitting up all night), three into sleeping berths, and a very capable porter squeezed in all the luggage as the train was moving. For my brother, it was a job to find the others, interpret for them, get drinks, etc.
The next morning, Friday the 24th, at 8 P.M. they were met at Nanking by Pendu, Gustaji, and my brother's servant. Then home to breakfast. In my brother's minute bottom floor of a house, five rooms, were now nine persons. After breakfast they went for a walk, climbed up the city wall, and strolled along the top of it. At the foot of the 60-foot wall was the great lake; to the right, the city; and ahead, the Purple Mountain.
In the afternoon a Frenchman, whom they thought would be interested, joined them in his car; and then with a hired car, they all motored up the Mountain right across the hillsides, finally jumping down the stony, slippery, descent to the water temple; then to the Sun Yat Sen Memorial, and home by car. Baba loved the walk, leading the way across country like a scout leader, and enjoyed the view of the Lake, the immense city wall (23 miles long), and the great River Yangtze