The chief drawback was that he still used “flowery talk”; to him the world was a field of poetry, and he spoke in figures whenever he forgot himself.  Mrs. Van Buren was still Madam the Mandarin, and he called Lucy the “Lotus of the Shining Sea.”  He received many reprimands for the use of these Oriental forms of speech; but found it hard to harness his thoughts to track-horses, especially after the June days began to fill the gardens with orioles and humming-birds and roses.

“Why not let me talk after nature?” little Sky-High used to beg.

One day the governor of the State came to visit the Van Burens.  Sky-High spoke of him as the “Mandarin of the Golden Dome.”  He had several times been in Boston to see Consul Bradley, and knew the State House.

In the evening Mrs. Van Buren gave him his morning orders.  “You will call the governor to-morrow at seven o’clock.  You will knock on his door, and you must use plain language!  You must not say, ’O Mandarin of the Golden Dome!’ We do not use flowery terms of address in this country.  Mind, Sky-High, use plain language.”

The little Chinaman feared that he would be “flowery” in spite of all his care.  So he consulted with Irish Nora in the blooming hours of the morning.

“What shall I say when I knock on the governor’s chamber-door?” asked he earnestly.  “What shall I say in the plain American language?”

“What shall you say?  Say, ‘Get up!’”

“Is that all?” asked he doubtfully.

“Well, if you want to say more, say, ’Get up!  The world is all growing and crowing—­the roosters are crowing their heads off!’”

Sky-High went to the door of the governor’s room and knocked.

There came a voice from within.  “Well?”

“Get up!  The world is all growing and crowing,—­the roosters are crowing their heads off.”

The “Mandarin of the Golden Dome” did not wait for a second summons, but got up even as Sky-High had bidden him.  It was a June morning, and he found the world as he had been warned, “all growing and crowing.”

“Have you called the governor?” asked Mrs. Van Buren, as she met Sky-High on the stairs.

“Yes, my Lady of the Beautiful Morning.”

“Did you use plain language?”

“Sky-High used the American language.”

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Get up!’”

“Oh, Sky-High, now I will have to apologize for you!”

“We never use plain language to mandarins in China,” said Sky-High.  “If we did, ‘whish, whish,’ and our heads would be off before we could turn!”

The Mandarin of the Golden Dome came down from the chamber; and the Lady of the Beautiful Morning explained to him that her new boy had not yet mastered the arts of American manners, although he intended to be correct when addressing his superiors.

“I didn’t notice anything whatever incorrect,” said the governor, who had hugely enjoyed the manner of his summons.  “He awoke me—­what more was needed?”