The deadly efficiency of the Japanese is, unbeknownst, giving the death-blow to a tradition of comic literature. The bow-legged English of the Oriental schoolboy has long held its place in the humorist's schedule. Whenever the public mouth seems inclined to relax to a comfortable position, a letter in pidgin English restores to it the contortion of lips which passes current for an appreciation of humor. Certain Japanese, with the connivance of Americans, are trying to teach in their schools English "as is" English.

Japan is becoming a bilingual country. The importation of English words to name American sport, business, engineering, and education has, however, not been accompanied by a corresponding achievement to English sounds. The teaching of English from the sixth grade onwards, usually by Japanese, develops in the sons of the East a third-hand language, whose characters, at least, are identical with those of English. This situation, as some reformers intend, is to be changed completely.

But is it possible that these idealists have considered the harm they are causing? The benefits of teaching real English are obvious enough, but a mere statement of the disadvantages will dissuade those who would callously knife a tradition of American humor. Deprived of their livelihood, a score of humorists will commit hari-kari, with a jokebook in their hands and a smile on their lips. The American nation, grossly abused in its privilege of laughing at the "furriner's" English, will hasten the Pacific world into war. With Irwin as general, a brigade of "colyumists" will scourge Japan from end to end. And in America universal mourning will reign, for one-fourth of the national stock of jokes will have been wiped out overnight. More than a ready use of "honorables" and ability to discover, ad infinitum, names riming with "pajama" will be required of our humorists. All this and more will ensue, for the Japanese will soon speak better English than American Nordics, even from Boston.