The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-11-17
Chinese Life in Sam Franclsoo.

A lady who visited He "Chines,
Quarters " in San Francisco, says: A
sudden turn out of the bustling thor
oughfare, few steps forward, and VIZ
feel we are in foreign land. We are
escorted by private friend and police
detective, without whose protective
presence it would not be safe to venture
into those dingy courts and alleys that
lie fostering in the very heart of the
Flowery Kingdom" Pig-tailed, blue.
bloused Celestials swarm in the road
way and on the sidewalks They surge
round us with their silent, stealthy
tread. At the sight of our escorts face,
or the sound of his voice, they slink
away and are gone like shadows. The
streets are dimly lighted; the gas does
not blaze, it blinks behind its glasses,
but the big white moon gives light
enough for us to see the cheap gaudy
magnifcence around u.s. We are pass
ing the joss house. 1t faunts its scar
let streamers overhead, and hanks it's
doors with legends in saffron and gold.
Within is glitter of tinsel, subdued
light, and the flicker of tiny lamp be-
fore some figure of barbaric ugliness.
The air floats out loaded with the fumes
OF smoking sandal-wood and strange
odors from the East. The doors are
open, but we do not enter yet. We
stroll up the street, taking an exterior
view before we penetrate to the interior.
Colored lanterns are strung along some
OF the balconies, or hungfrom the win
dows. Red and blacksigns in crooked
characters are everywhere, and from all
sides resounds the echo, it seems, of q
hundred unknown tongues. Lights
stream from cellar flaps, creep through
open doors and window chinks, but the
shops are only lighted by a succession
of dingy oil lamps. Discordant noises
of rasping fiddles, gongs and sundry
unknown tuneless instruments mingle
with the clatter of strange tongues.
The very laughter comes to us tangled
and out of tune, and the air is filled
with odors the reverse of sweet. Moldy
fruits, wilted vegetables, stale fish, too
long divorced from its native element,
all mingle in one common and most I'M
savory scent. The Chinese shops make
no endeavor to attract the eye or tempt
the appetite of the Celestial horde. But
perhaps, what seems to us disgustig,
display may seem to them tempting
sight. The butcher, who is a general
merchant as well, sells JOSS sticks, tea
pots, tobacco and scores of other
things. He fianks his door on either
side with the carcasses of huge slaugh-
tered hogs. They are not quartered
and jointed in Christian fashion, but
hacked and hewn and torn asunder Just
as the meat is wanted, and present
mangled, shapeless mass, sickening to
look at. Split chickens and fowls are
fattened out like sheets of paper and
nailed against the wall. Delicate It'd
bits, stepped in oil and dried, are strung
up and hung like cherry bobs across the
windows, and scores of oily cakes, like
Jumps of yellow soap, are laid on
benches.
We pass on our way, look down the
cellar flaps, and see the BARRIERS at work
in their underground shops. Within a
radius of half mile there are no less
than fifty of these places devoted to the
cleansing and decoration of the Mon
golian head. You may glance down
these steps at any hour of the day or
hlSllO OOu Will o6G ullS
busy at their tonsorial labor. Never
was such clean shaving, such delicate
cleansing of eyes, ears and nostrils, such
trimming and penciling of brows and
lashes, such scraping and polishing of
oily faces, such plating of the be-
loved and sacred pig-tail, and the Ce-
lestial pagan issues from the hands of
the barber a proud and happy man,
the perfect ideal of a Chinese beau;
every inch above his shoulders is
scraped and polished to perfection.
This luxurious treatment which he re-
ceives at the hands of his barber is a
law among the followers of Confucius.
The Chinaman feels the necessity of
frequent rejuvenation under the razors,
probes and pencils of the barber, who is
one of the best employed and most i'm
portant person in the community.