Evening star., 1917-05-27

three is true. So distressingly true.
Listen:
'.On the egg combating with a stone.
the the solk came ne out; IT.; Do you not think n
ond and the third part. They are both
of an exquisite wit. The titmouse held
up its feet SO that the sky might not
fall upon it and crush it. And the tail
away with the strength of its back.
You do not laugh? Yet / have heard
tell about the great American sense of
humor. Can it then be that you do not
understand our simple oriental jests:
Must 1 explain the point? Listen: You
are the egg. you of the west, you white
men; and we, we Of Asia, are the stone
hard stone; and as to the yolk-"
Something made me turn.
And in the flash of second I saw
that Mascasenhas had crept up close
to me. His eyes blazed with the most
fiendish hatred and vindictiveness 1 had
ever seen on human face His hands
swung aloft heavy teakwood stool.
1 lifted my hands to avert the blow.
l cried out:
"Mascasenhas, Mascasenhas."
Then everything was covered with a
heavy, clogging pail. I remember hear
ing the Manchu's gentle laugh. even as
/ lost consciousness.
1t seemed years later that I awak-
ened.
hands and feet were tightly strapped
to a string bedstead. 1 felt q numb
ing pain in the back Of my head. and
momentarily 1 lost consciousness again.
The next moment l was wide awake.
Somebody had dashed glass of water
into my face. 1 looked. The Manchu
was standing over me with the old bland
smile on his thin lips.
L moved my head little to the right.
discovered that I was In a small
xl-Ii iph rrr,it, ,af tod lIy
single oil lamp. A whole day must
have passed since Mascasenhas had
made the murderous assault upon me.
For young moon was in the skies.
breaking into the room through purple
mists and weaving checkered patterns
on walls and floor
The Goanese was sitting, cross
legged, beside the bedstead on which
was strapped. His head was turned
away from me, and I caught a glimpse
of his profile only.
But even SO. I had again the mad
sensation that his features had subtly
changed into those Of the other man.
the man whom I had killed two years
before.
Look here. Mascasenhas" kept my
voice as steady as possible. Purposely
chose negligent. matter-of-fact words
''What do you mean by dressing up in
these confounded heathenish masque-
rade clothes? What do you mean by
assaulting me".
Mascasenhas turned. He looked me
up and down. He answered, speaking
in Arabic, the language which had been
as much mother tongue to Hussain
Khan as his own native Pukhtu, but
which I was positive Mascasenhas had
never had occasion to learn.
"Yawakkal al Allah, va Ahaykh."
A holy-sounding injunction meaning
place thy reliance upon God, oh, chief"
But In reality it was only the slang of
meaning as our American nothing do
ing" 1t seemed to amuse him. For he
poked me gently in the ribs and con-
tinued:
Yah. Harikar al-Hakim." another
Arab slang word. which has the exact
supplement fame.
Listen. Mascasenhas. You're a white
mana Christian"
A sharp. mocking laugh made me
stop. I looked up. The Manchu was
in convulsions of laughter. bowling at
knees in a paroxysm of glee.
He stepped up close to me and ad-
dressed me with mock seriousness
white man, Christian. sou of su-
perior race, scion of a superior civiliza-
ton. Have not your famed universities
beyond the water taught you the truth
of the saying that every man should
sweep the snow in front of his own
door before buSylng himself with the
frost on his neighbors tiles? Do not
meddle with the destinies of the brown
and the yellow. And when you do med
die, turn not for help and sympathy to
the inferior men, the men of color. For
this man" He put his hand on Mas
shoulder-"this man is Hus-
sain Khan an Asian. an Afghan,
hater of the Cross"
Masca senhas looked up. His voice
was slow. slightly bored.
"Of course. | am Hussain Khan"
Once more I tried to bore through his
armor of insanity.
"Mascasenhas. don't you remember
Paris? Don't you remember our peace
full little house in jersey"
The Manchu laughed again.
My friend, 1t is useless to plant SUI
gar cane on your lips. why do you
talk. talk. talk? Pray! Pray instead of
talking. For in an hours time Hus-
sain Khan will kill you. A painless
death. my friend. Just a sharp knife
drawn gently across your throat" He
smiled. II could kill you now. But
am a Chinaman, an Asian. l am just
to everybody. but most just to you. be-
cause you are a white man, a Chris
tian. One hour 1 give you. that you
may think of your past life and the
glories of the life to come. For death
is not such a mouthful that you should
gulp it whole. One hour, my friend, to
think of the been.
Stepping up to the opposite wall, he
drew aside Il heavy purple curtain
VI mich Had been aIa.,iu-. il. Tae gold