The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1884-07-16
BAD CHINAMEN.
4 Returned Calircl44ian Tells What
He Knows about the Heather.


He Knows about the Heather.
Six Cinnamon came around the cor
ner Of Eighth and SAMSON streets, yes
terday afternoon with q complete dis
regard for any statutes concerning dis
orderly conduct or breaches of the
peace. They clattered their skates
on the sidewalk, warbled American
barcaroles and Hong Kong serenades.
They pulled their shocking hats over
their eyes and wore their thumbs In
the armholes of their blouses. They
were bold, bad Cinnamon. No atten-
ton was paid to their conduct by any
of the bystanders except q pickaninny
boot black, who shouted an African i'm
itation of their songs.
'.It's astonishing how You let those
people go on, said the returned Cali
fornian, who witnessed the perform
ance. They wouldn't dare to act SO
before Caucasians in San Francisco.
Still, pitied dead Chinaman once. "
This was said in the manner of con-
fessioh of q weakness, if not OF guilt
you see," continued the returned
Californian, s.he looked 50 deuced limp
and miserable sticking to the cliff rs
the tide went out and left him. First
his little yellow forehead appeared,
then his eyes. and they looked as big as
eggs. ::
from under his feet, his fingers broke
and his wretehed, starved. shriveled lit
tie carcass dropped in the mud. | was
kind O. sorry that we hadn't saved
him"
How did it all happeL?" asked the
reporter.
ut was down on the coast of Lower
California, two years ago this month,
replied the narrator. Il happened to
come in there on a coaster. The port
"a little Santa something or other
was full of Cinnamon. You know,
they come down from Frisco every
spring to gather shell fish that the
Spaniards call abalona kind OF
thing that sticks to rocks under wa
ter closer than death. The Cinnamon
eat the fish and take the shells
back to Frisco to sell, for they are all
sorts of pretty colors. We lay in port
there a couple of days, when one day
there was the devil to pay among the
Cinnamon across the harbor. They
were shouting and raising Cain. We
didn't pay much attention. They were
bad lot of Cinnamon, and we sup
posed they were only on another drunk.
But when the tide turned boatload of
IS went over to the Chinese, and what
do you think we saw?"
THE dead Chinaman, l suppose, "
answered the reporter.
Yes; but what killed him?"
The reporter gave it up.
He was an aVariOious heather,
continued the returned Californian.
HE had kept on gathering the she'll
fish along the bottom Of the cliff when
he knew that the tide was coming in
and everybody else had quit. He poked
along with his little sharp bit of iron,
with which he'd loosen the fish, and
then he'd wrench the thing of the rock
with his fingers. He bagged a lot
while the water was almost up to his
feet, and Just then found the biggest of
all. He turned and looked at the tide
his feet were wet by that time-apd
then set to work with his prod on the
abalona. He loosened it and then put
in his fingers and gave it a pull, ex-
pecting to cut and run. No cut and
run for John on this earth. The aba
Iona shut up like clam. He felt the
water up to his knees, and shouted for
help. Then it was that we heard his
''pals" kicking up such fuss. The
tide came up little further.
HE was easier, for he could float
now. He braced one hand against the
cliff and wrenched away for dear life.
No 90. Then he foated at ease while,
apparently with no idea in his heather
head that the floating would be over as
soon as the tide got an arms length
above the abalona. All at once, so we
Judged from what the rest of the gang
told US, he seemed to catch on to
what was going to happen and. went to
work again. He braced against the
cliff once more, but it grew harder for
him all the time. He was working
from above you know.
They said he shouted Chinese
PRAYER when the abalona pulled his
nose under water. The tide kept ris-
ing. They saw him hump his back
and supposed he was butting his be-
nighted head against the cliff under
water. Then those bowling heathens
saw the last of their friends yellow
legs and gave a final wall at the disap-
pearance Of the two little ripples that
showed that his feet were at work I'M
derneath. John must have eroaked
about this time. As | said, we stayed |
there until the tide went out, and his |
fingers broke and he fell into the mud
ten feet below. and the abalona's got |
those fingers yet. l kind o pitied that |
did. - Philadelphia Times.