September 18th.
I had planned to sleep late this morning, in order
to make up for my lost sleep of last night.
But behold, at eight o’clock, three persons
of the most singular appearance, led by M. Kangourou,
present themselves with endless bows at the door of
my cabin. They are dressed in long robes bedizened
with dark patterns; they have the flowing locks, high
foreheads and pallid countenances of persons too exclusively
devoted to the fine arts; and, perched on the top
of their chignons, they wear sailor hats of English
shape stuck jauntily on one side. Under their
arms, they carry portfolios filled with sketches;
in their hands, boxes of water-colors, pencils, and,
tied together like fasces, a bundle of fine stylets
the sharp points of which glitter ostensibly.
At the first glance, even in the bewilderment of waking,
I gather from their appearance what their errand is,
and guessing with what visitors I have to deal, I
say:—“Come in, Messieurs the tattooers!”
These are the specialists most in renown in Nagasaki;
I had engaged them two days ago, not knowing that
we were about to leave, and since they are come I
will not turn them away.
My friendly and intimate relations with primitive
man, in Oceania and elsewhere, have imbued me with
a deplorable taste for tattoo work; and I had wished
to carry away on me, as a curiosity, an ornament, a
specimen of the work of the Japanese tattooers, who
have a delicacy of finish which is unequaled.
From their albums spread out upon my table I make
my choice. There are some remarkably odd designs
amongst them, appropriate to the different parts of
the human body: emblems for the arms and legs,
sprays of roses for the shoulders, great grinning
faces for the middle of the back. There are even,
to suit the taste of their clients who belong to foreign
navies, trophies of arms, American and French flags
entwined, a “God Save the Queen” amid
encircling stars, and figures of women taken from
Grevin’s sketches in the Journal Amusant.
My choice rests upon a singular blue and pink dragon
a couple of inches long, which will have a fine effect
upon my chest on the side opposite the heart.
Then follows an hour and a half of irritation and
positive pain. Stretched out on my bunk and delivered
over to the tender mercies of these personages, I
stiffen myself and submit to the million imperceptible
pricks they inflict. When by chance a little blood
flows, confusing the outline by a stream of red, one
of the artists hastens to staunch it with his lips,
and I make no objections, knowing that this is the
Japanese manner, the method used by their doctors for
the wounds of both man and beast.
A piece of work as minute and fine as that of an engraver
upon stone is slowly executed on my person; and their
lean hands harrow and worry me with automatic precision.
