The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1893-06-02
A CHINAMAN'S REVENGE.
The Story Of Chew Chung's Now
Game Of Fly-Loo.

LC0 Cnuen zee, Lne literary one,
wlso knew all about Confucius, and
who had graduated at Peltin, had been
robbed. That rasoally Chew Chung,
who always had a smile on his face,
and whose queue was oiled every day,
because he was prosperous, was the
one who took the money of the
literary one. Now Len Chuen Yee,
writer of books, sat in his room, back
of Oh Moi's vat bunlow in Mott street,
and with his head in his hands, cursed
the unlucky day which had brought
him to this heather city. He was
ruined now, and had not SO much as
would buy lichee nut, or even a
betel leaf, on the vender's stand out
side the door.
He had been up in the temple for
two hours, praying Looi-Kwang, the
god of thunder, to strike Chew Chung
dead before he could enjoy the money,
he saw the robbing one standing in
the sunshine on the other side of the
street smoking cigarette, and Chew
had shouted, in derision:
"Ha, poor one, shall lend some of
that which was once your own?"
He had scorned to notice this thrust,
but he rememb mbered as he clattered
along to his room, that he had not
poured wine on the floor before the
thunder god, and that he had placed no
offering at the shrine. No wonder
Chew Chung was still alive! Gods do
not work for nothing, and he hurried
along to the shop of his friend, the gro
Gerry man, and begged him to trust him
for MEASURE of samshu and some
tim. The grocery man had not heard
of his trouble yet, and SO he trusted
him.
A few minutes later bareheaded
and excited Chinese ran up the street
to the temple. 1t was the literary one.
In one hand he held the wine; in the
other he held the offering of sweet
things. The friends of Chew Chung
shouted at him from across the street,
but he paid no attention to them. He
went up the stairs leading to the tenn
Pile like wind from the north. He
Frustrated himself be fore the thunder
god, and pouring out his treasures,
prayed, as he cast the prayer sticks,
that Chew Chung, the wicked one, the
gambling, robbing one, might be ground
to dust as fine as grain, that he might
be singed, scorched, burned and tor
mented. All of this he, the literary
one. prayed and begged, because he
was also good and virtuous one who
harmed nobody,
He walked down the stairs with a
stately tread, like one who has per-
formed pleasant duty. He brushed
the dust from his knees and stepped
into the street,
"Only the poor and the laborers
pray!" yelled Chew Chung at him. But
he looked pityingly at the man who
was to die SO soon. The god of thunder
had an evil eye and had never been
known to fail. He walked to his room
hatless but with his head straight up
like man who feels proud. He en-,
tered, sat down upon a stool, looked
around until his eye fell upon the
sandalwood chest In the corner, the
cover of which was still raised, From
a corner Of that chest had come all the
cash he had saved in four years, fifteen
hundred taels, Ten hours ago 1t was
there in little blue bag in the corner,
and now-even the blue bag was gone.
He felt like crying, and as he sat there
with his head resting in his hands the
tears came, and, splashing upon the
floor, made dark spots in the dirt.
Outside, the story of how Chew
Chung, the gambler, had won from the
innocent literary one I'LL his cash was
passing from mouth to mouth, and be-
fore the dusky tangs We're lighted in
the shops, long before the gamblers
thought of setting out their tables,
everything was known and hundred
hands had patted the back of Chew
Chung's brocaded blouse:
Here is the story they were telling
and laughing oyer:
| For six months the police had been
watching the gambling ones as cat
watches mouse, They had to pay
rent, and they had not the privilege of
making any money. Such country as
this was enough to make them wish
they were all back no me the other side
of the water.
The gamble RS were getting so poor
that they no longer had wine when
they ate, and instead of eating four and
five times day, they had to be salts
fed with two meals. They who had
been used to picking chicken out of
their teeth could never be satisfied
with pork. The poorest one of them
| all was Chew Chung. The wise ones
said he would always be poor, because
yuh hn OF
crowding around his table he acted
like man half asleep. But the wise
ones never noticed there was a strange
twinkle in the eye of Chew Chung, and
they forgot that whoever played at his
table left everything behind. When
Chew Chung sat in the sun on fine aft
ernoons with his eyes shut he was not
always sleeping, and he always opened
his eyes and went in his shop when the
policeman who came marching down
the street was twenty feet away. 1t
was the ones who had dealings with
him who called him toh-hai-the cum.
ming one.
He was sitting in front of his shor
one afternoon when Len Chuen Yee,
the literary one, came walking along
with the air of one who has plenty tc
eat and is satisfied with himself.
"Ha, friend" said Chung, suddenly
unclosing his eyes and standing up
"You are the one want" 1t was like
the hungry fox saying to the dove: 81
want YOU"
Len Chuen Vee stopped.
y want you to write q letter to my
old mother in Foo-Chow," said the
gambler; and he led the way down the
eleven stone stems IN the nlace vvhare