Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1891-09-05
THE SOUL OF THE CAT.
BY FRED a. WILSON.

Yee Sam Ling was a lonely one. He
had friends, of course, in plenty, and
relatives, too, for that matter, but Ling
tad his own views on matrimony, and he
didn't believe anybody could be happy
without wife. 1t was strange why he
ehould have suddenly taken on that be-
lief, for hadn't he lived Is years away
from his own Flowery Landl or course
he had.
He came first to the Golden Hills and
went to work in the mines, but he
couldn't stand it, for he used to feel the
strange white devils at night punching
him in the back. So he gave his claim
IN the Golden Hills to a relative, and
travelled across the continent to New
York, curled up like a little mink on the
seat Of the smoking car.
He was idle for while and then he
started in to sell soap to the laundrymen,
until, finally, he got enough of the Amer
ican mans cash to rent store. He put
out his red sign, with the fluttering red
streamers on it to keep the evil ones
away, and he became merchant. Every
night for years he had crawled into his
little bunk curtained off at the back of
the store, and after comforting himself
with the opium he loved so well he had
fallen asleep, to dream of pretty Chinese
girls tottering on pink clouds across the
water and stretching out their arms to
him.
He often thought of China and the
home life there, and he used to count the
money in his trunk and wonder when he
would have enough to go back and buy
q koonfoo's rank and wear cap with
the red button of the third degree. Then
ne thought he would buy with some of
his money the pre'tiest girl in the prov
ince, and she would have feet SO small
that she couldn't walk at all unless she
had a strong servant holding each hand.
He often played the lottery in the hope
that he would win, and he burned prayer
sticks before his kat god that he might
have luck, but he might just as well have
saved the sticks, for luck never came.
So persistently did he lose that more than
once he was tempted to let one of the
burning prayer sticks fall over against
the god and burn it, but he was afraid
test the deceit should be discovered, and
the god seek just revenge.
One day there came into his store a
white girl who lived on the top floor of
the tenement around the corner. She
had hair like the wong shik gold he used
70 dig out of the Golden Hills.
@Say, John, she said, "me mothers
run out O. sope, an she's up to her neck
in washin'. Gimme a bari"
Ling was smitten with great love.
He remembered having seen this girl go
past his store many times, but he never
had such a chance as this to speak to her.
"You nominee want sope?" he asked.
She washee?"
yes; / want er bar, an want it
quick"
"Alle lite, " said Ling, and he clattered
behind the narrow counter and pulled
out from shelf two bars of soap
"You takkee two," he said. aNo
ngant'sin, you takkee; you sabe?" and
he pushed the soap aud the FIVE pennies
she had laid down away from him. Then
he went on: II lakkee you; you heap
nicei Lat you name 2"
Gee, what graft" said the girl;
$50 / get de sope for nuttin, do |, John? {?
Well, me names Maggie Sullivan, if yer
want ter know.
Ling looked at her with admiring eyes.
Then he pointed to the soap and pennies,
and said simply;
~You takkee. heap lakkee you, sabe !?
You clum CLAIM"
"Yes, sabe, John, said the girl, an
III come again.
So she went out, and Ling went to the
door and looked after her until she had
disappeared around the corner. Then he
went back behind the narrow counter and
sat down on stool. He rested his ell
bows on pile of paper, sunk his chin in
his hands, and thought very hard. His
thinking amounted to something, for he
went to the little cubby room curtained
Off at the back Of the store, and out Of the
big camphor wood chest he pulled some
carefully folded clothes. He was new
man when he came out into the store
again. and a couple Of his countrymen who
had dropped in to have friendly chat
and smoke began to chaff him.
His old cloth blouse, with the shiny
place on the loose back where his well
oiled queue had hung, lay in heap on
che floor with his old pow tail and coarse
trousers; instead he wore clothes of bro
eaded dark blue silk, and his sandals
were like those Of koonfoo. A cold
wind was blowing up the street. II
made him shiver. but he stood his ground
and watched for the coming of Maggie
Sullivan.
Every day for week he watched un-
til on the eighth day he saw her running
bv with a shawl over her head and =