Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1878-02-22
THE LATEST CHINESE OUTRAGE.

Bret Harte in New York Spirit of the Times.
1t was noon by the sun; we had finished our
game
And was passin' remarks soin' back to our
Jones was countin his chips, smith-relicvin'
OF ideas that straight should beat three
When johnson of Elk came gallopin' down,
With look on his face 'twixt a grin and a
And he calls: "Drop ;'our shovels and face
right about,
For them Chinecs from, Murphy's arc cleanin'
us out
With their ching n ring chow
And their chic eOlOrOw,
They're bent upon making
The tOlliest row.
Then Jones-my own pardner-looks up with a
You lie!'
But afore he could draw, or the others could
Up tumbles tho Bates boys who heard the
And yell from the hilltop and roar of gong,
Mixed up, with remarks like, Hi! VI! Chang-a-
wong!
And bombs, shells and crackers that crashed
through the trees,
Revealed in their war-togs, four hundred Chi
nceS!
Four hundred Chinee;
We are eight, don't ye see!
I0dl mdOo II square
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 conjuror
sat,
Pullin out eggs and chickens from Johnson's
best hat;
And Bates game rooster was part of their
loot"
And all of Smiths pigs were skyiegled to boot.
But the the climax was reached, and l like to have
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 parley. When out of the
To the front came a-rocking that heather, All
SIM
You owe flowty dollee-me washee you camp,
You catchee my washee-me catchee no stamp;
One dollar hap dozen, me no caIchee yet.
Now that fiowty dollee-no hab? how can get?
Me catchee you piggee-me sellee for cash.
Me belize good Shelitf-me lebbee when can,
Me alice same halp pin as Mclean man!
But Mclean man
He WaShee him pan
On bottom side hillee
And catchee how CAM"
Are we men?" says Joe Johnson, "and list to
this jaw
Without process of warrant or color of law?
Are we men r-achew!'-here he gasped in
his speech.
For stink-pot had fallen just out of his reach
"Shall we stand here as idle, and let Asia pour
Her barbaric hordes on this civilized shore?
Has 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, own
But this yer's a White Mani plays it aloner'
And he sprang up the hillside-to stop him
Till a yell from the top told a white Man was
therev'
A White Man was there!
We prayed he might spare
Those misguided heathenS
The few clothes they wear.
They fled fled and he followed. but no matter
They fled to escape him, the white Man was
there
Till we missed first his voice on the pine-wood-
ed slope,
And we knew for the heather, henceforth was
no hope.
And the yells they grew fainter, when Petersen
ut simply was human to bury his dead
And then with slow tread
We crept up, in dread,
But found next to nothing
Alive there or dead.
But there was his trail and the way that they
came,
And yonder, no doubt he was bagging his game
When Jones dropped his pick-ax, and Thomp-
son says "ShoO!'
And both of 'em points to a cage of bamboo.
Hanging down from tree with label that
Conspicuous, with letters in some foreign
tongue,
Which, when freely translated the same did
Was the Chinese for saying; "A White Nan is
here!'
For as we drew near
In anger and fear,
Bound hand and foot, johnson
Looked down with a leer!
In his mouth was an opium pipe-whch was
He leered at us with drunken-like eye!
They had shaved off his eyebrows. and tackled
on cue,
They had painted his face of u coppery hue,
And rugged him all up in heathenish suit.
Then softly departed, each man with his loot"
Yes, every galoot,
And All Sin, to boot,
Had left him there hanging
Like ripening fruit
At a mass meeting held up at Murphys next
day,
There were seventeen speakers, and each had
his say;
There were twelve resolutions that instantly
passed,
And each resolution was worse that the last.
There were fourteen petitiOns-which, grant
ing the same,
viii determine what Governor Murphy's shall
name,
And the man from our District-that goes up
next year,
Goes up on one issue-that's patent and clear;
"Can the work of q mean.
Degraded, unclean
Believer in Buddha