Fruits on Sticks

In which we learn that Chinese street vendors have enjoyed selling fruits on sticks for centuries

Haw fruit skewers for sale, haw fruit skewers for sale! I’ve just left the pleasure precincts, come out of the tea houses. In the snap of a finger, I’ve passed by the realm of kingfisher green and red as quickly as a turn of the head I am at the fortress of orioles and flowers. I must convey that I am of the tradition of an old native of the capital.

These fruits are raised in the finest gardens, just picked from their local sites. There are sweet-sweet-luscious, full-spouting-fragrant, aromatic-and-perfumed, red fresh-peeled-and-juicy round-eyed lichees from Fuzhou. And from Lanqi District there are sour-sour-tart, shady-shady-cool, soft-limp-green, nurtured-to-the-full, springtime cymbidia with the leaves still on. From Songyang District are supple-supple-soft, quite-quite-white, frost-frozen persimmon cakes soaked in honey and covered with sugar powder. From Wuzhou Prefecture comes juicy-juicy-tender, glitter-glitter-bright dragon-twined jujube balls kneaded in sugar; there are sweet and sour golden tangerines, dried on the tree and simmered in honey; I have fragrant-crispy almonds simmered in sugar. I’m not bragging on the number and kind, but my profession sends me from trading in Xuancheng to gathering in Wei for these fixed-with-sugar, mixed-with honey, minced-into-strips, soft little skewered pears. O you fine and handsome gents and dandies in your high halls and grand lofts! O you sing-song girls and beautiful women of embroidered galleries and perfumed chambers—would I dare open my mouth as big as an ocean? Is it all just an empty boast? Try them, taste them, you’ll desire no other. Once you eat them, I’ll sell you more!