The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1903-10-13
THE sLuMs OF JOHANNESBURG.
The London Mail says:

I Swiftly throug the streets OF johannes
| burg, past the shops ablaze with light,
! past the lettering crowd that saunters
/ idly, past the thronged theaters where
bursts of melody and spasmodic ca
dences of applause reach the ear through
opening doors
Keep out of the light-the cold. white
steadfast lights that line the mile-iong
streets; let US creep away into the side
ways where are the tumble-down tin shn-
ty of Ramsammy and the dirt-begrimed
windows of Petrifski-Isaac, the son of
Joseph-Behind which this very man IS
threading needle by the light of flick
ering candle You will see him still at
work when you return, the same Petrif-
ski: well into the night he will work.
plying his needle and dreaming alone of
who knows what? Then he will draw a
filthy blanket over his greasy form and
sleep till the morning sun awakens him.
and then again the needle and the day
long dream and the candles successor.
But our business is not with him; only
We must pass the road in which he dwells
before We get to the east. He sits in
his filth and his toll, and the memory
of Poland is a boundary post between
East and West, between Orient and
Occident
Beyond, the houses grow bewilderingiy
various. Shops, leisurely started with
some idea of being beautiful, have fin
ished by becoming patchily tin. The
builder has never finished. Unsentimental
necessity grasped him by the throat;
thrusting him aside to make room for a
hundred aliens.
They did not object to unfinished work.
| The window sashes were never painted.
and some of the panes were never put
in. and today behind red painted sashes
and CLASHES windows the prescribed OF
Poland live happily enough. We are out
of the range of the white merciless arc
light-that disciple of Truth that empha-
sizes our wrinkles and traces the patches
on our threadbare coats. Here the light
is more mellow, more pleasing. 1t is a
yellow light and none too bright, and
here the houses are tin. They are bright
enough. There is music here. Vice
gilded thinly, has its votaries, its high
priest, and its temples-little tin temples
scented with Florida water.
The tin town continues beyond this,
but the lower end is silent. So silent
that you might think you had by accident
happened upon a colony living up to the
standard set by the moral Mr.. Franklin.
Early to bed they apparently are. No
sound breaks the silence of the quiet
night, no light CLEANS in any window. no
smoke rises from the crazy courtyards.
Early to rise you know they are, for
daybreak sees this little colony alive
with bamboo rod and laden baskets, chat
tering, running, loading, and trading.
For this is the Chinese quarter.
Knock softly on one of the iron gates.
There is no answer. Here is door THE
Ho XII Laundry" Knock here. and if any
body comes invent some laundry urgently
required by a fictitious client. But no
body will come
Rut have hror1CIt won bnra for
the pleasure of knocking at an unre-
sponsive door. L knew all along that it
would not be opened to you. But in few
minutes the gates of Chinatown will be
opened to us, and Chinatown, obsequious
and smiling, viii greet US with injured
surprise and lamblike innocence. Fe' the
police are very close at hand: all the
while we have been walking this way
they have been shadowing us on either
hand. You may not have seen them. but
they have been close enough. And now
watch. They appear like magic from side
streets and unsupported alleys. In ones,
in -twos, in threes. And they are coming
towards us. Did / tell you we have one
of the chiefs of police with us?
There is no noise. no melodramatic
whistle. A whispered word of command.
and two men have scaled the iron waite
way and have dropped into the dark
y
and the gate CRATES open on rusty hinges.
and we are inside. 1t is rather disap-
pointing at first. There is nothing sug-
gestive of the F1owery Land-no pagodas
or tea houses or joss houses. only three
sides of garbage-strewn square, ranged
around which are the sordid tea shanties
of John. But it strikes you Immediately
that nobody is asleep In fact, everybody
is wide awake. A dozen Cinnamon of all
sizes and ages are sitting around red
hot braazier on which some mess is
stewing, and all the little houses that
have no lights have smouldering wicks-
which is significant.
Somebody flashes an electric torch over
the deserted howell The hastily extin-
guished candle still CLOVIS, and its smell
fills all space. There is closed door
in one corner of the apartment. The SER
geant puts his shoulder to it, and he be-
ing man of many pounds. it gives
way. There is a passage. and there are
some steps leading downward and there
is another door outlined in light. This
yields 10 push.
We-that is. you. the police. and lido
not apologize. even though we have OBJ
viously broken up what promised to be a
successful evening. The cuTiousiy colored
board supported on d :restle table and
the weird, pawn-like pieces scattered at
our uneeremonious intrusion. are i'm
plements employed in the game Of fan
tan 1t is an institution that Ho HI. the
Chow. carries away from his fatherland
ii is the outward and visible demonstra-
ton of his patriotism. John Ho XII
Wunhi. Ho Ku, and Chow Ke, in no wise
perturbed. sit around the wall of the
dugout in which the classical game is
played. There are four eacant places
at the board. and there is q trap door
near the roof to which ladder ascends
The banker has departed. Gambling is
q crime. even in johannesburg. and the
players fab in. outside. from whence they
will march 10 the police station with
great docility.
There is another door leading from the
gambling den. 1t is locked. evidently
from the other side. but the sergeant's
shoulder is better than a skeleton key.
Crash. The room is bare except for &
frame bed and a table. On this is
candle spluttering in its socket On the
bed lies q man who does not move His
eyes are half closed his hand grasps a
pipe. and the sickening stencil OF opium
fills the room.
Wake ZIP. Johnny: where's your pass.
eh?"
Leave them to arouse him. and follow
the police captain TO the joss house The
priest opens the door of tin shanty. in
20 wise differing from the dozen about
except that the interior resembles for ali
the world a iarge-sized tea chest turned
inside out. Here. gold on black. certain
moral precepts OF Confucius crawl u
the walls like 50 many aurfferous spiders
On the altar is q small image Of
hlaok-bearded god Before the altar
joss sticks. wooden swords. spears. and
tinsslied barties. Not 50 very inspiring
and certainly nothing 70 justify the IN
pleasant scoul Of the priestly cus;o-
dian.