Democratic Sentinel, Volume 2, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 February 1878 — NEW POEM BY BEET HABTE. [ARTICLE]

NEW POEM BY BEET HABTE.

The Latest Chines® Outrage. 1 j ’*l It was noon by the sun ; we had finished our game, And were paesin’ remarks gotu’ back to our claim; Jones was countin’ his chips; Smith relievin’ his mind Of ideas that a “ straight” should beat “ three of a kind,” When Johnson, of Elko, camo gallopin’ down, With a look on his face ’twixt a grin and a frown, And he calls, “Drop your shovels and face right about. For them Chinese from Murphy’s are cleanin’ ns out— With their ching-a-ring-chow And their chio-colorow, < They’re bent npon making The jolliest row.” Then Jones—my own pardner—looks up with ar sigh; “ It’s your wash-bill,” sez he; and I answers, “ You lie.” But afore he could draw, or the others could arm, Up tumbles the Bates boys, who heard the alarm; And a yell from the hill-top, and a roar of a gong, Mixed up with remarks like “Hi I yl! Cnang-a-wong,” And bombs, shells, and crackers, that crashed through the trees, Revealed in their war-togs four hundred Chinese! Four hundred Chinee 1 We are eight, don’t ye see ? That made a square fifty To just one o’ we. They were dressed in their best, but I grieve that that same Was largely made up of our own, to their shame, And my pardner's best shirt and his trousers were hung On a spear, and above him were tauntingly swung ; While that beggar Cley Lee like a conjurer sat, Pullin' out eggs and chickens from Johnson’s best hat; And Bates’ gam n rooster was part of their “ loot,” And all of Smith’s pigs were skyiegled to boot; And the climax was reached and I like to have died When my demijohn, empty, came down the hillside— ’Down the hillside— What once held the pride Of Robinson county Pitched down the hillside! Then we axed for a parley. When out of the din, To the front comes a-rocking that heathen, Ah Sin! *’ You owe flowty dollee—me washes you eamp ; You catchee my washee—me catchee no stamp; Ono dollar hap dozen, me no catchee yet; Now that flowty dolleo—no hab ? how can get? Me catchee you piggee—me sei lee for cash; It catchee mo licee—you catchee no “ hash Me belly good Bheliff—me lebbee when can; Me allee same tialp pin as Melican man I But Melican man He washee him pan On bottom side hillee, And catchee—how can ?” " Are we men?” says Joe Johnson, “and list to this jaw, Without process of warrant, or color of law? Are we men or-achewi” —here ho gapped in hts speech, For a stink-pot had fallen just out, of hie reach. •* shill we stand hero so idle, and let Asia pour Her barbaric hordes on this civilized shore ? Hss the White Man no country ? Are we left in the lurch ? And likewise what’s gone of the Established Church ? One man to four hundred is great odds, I own, But this yo.r’s a White Man—l plays it alone !” And he sprung :<p the hillside—to stop him none dare— Till a veil from the top told a "White Man was there! ” A White Man was there! We prayed he might spare 'i'lioke misguided Heathens The few clothes they wear. They fled, and he followed ; but, no mutter where They fled to escape him, the " White Man was there," Till we missed first his voice on the pine-wooded slope, And w<> knew for the Heathen henceforth was no hope. And the yells they grew fainter, when Petersen said, “ It simply was human to bury his dead.” And then with slow tread We came up, in dread, But found next to nothing Alive there or dead. But there wss his trail, and the way that they came, And yonder, no doubt, he was bagging his game, When Jones drops his pickax, ami Thompson says "Shoo I” And both of them points to a cage of bamboo, Hanging down from a tree with a label that swung Conspicuous, with letters of some foreign tongue, Which, when freely translated, the same did appear, Was the Chinese for saying : “ A White Man is here I” For, as we drew near, In auger and fear, Bound hand and foot, Johnson Looked down with a leer ! In bis mouth was an opium-pipe—which was whv H" leered at ns so with a drunken-like eye I They had shaved oil’ his eyebrows aud tacked on a cue ; t They had painted his face of a coppery hue, And rigged him ah up in a heathenish suit, Then softly departed, each man with his "loot.” Yer, every galoot, And Ah Sin, to lx>ot, Had loft him there hanging Like ripening fruit. At a miss-meeting held up at Murphy's next day, 'I here were seventeen speakers, unit each had his say ; There w<r? twelve resolutions, that instantly p issed, And each resolution was worse than the last; I here were fourteen petitions—which granting the same, " ill determine what Governor Murphy's shall name. And the man from our district—that goes up next year, Goes uu ou one issue—that’s patent and clear; “ Can the. work of a mean, Degraded, unclean Believer in Buddha Bo held as a lien ?’’ S/i'i it <•/ the. Times.