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When he allive ne' his house, say to man: 'Goo'-by! I go ressa way on footstep. Nen go vay quier on his tiptoe, and lock vay soft at his daw." Here pauses the Chinese, and looks at me. Shortly he says: "We'?" "Well?" I echo. "We', dissa last tem dissa merchan' Jan Han Sun was sheen annibe!" "Does the highrob follow him and kill him?" "No one shee any highrob.
We', one tem was merchan', nem Jan Han Sun, getta lich in Kan Suh; say hisse'f: 'I getta lich; now mus' go home Tsan Ran Foo, shee my de-ah fadder-mudder-in-'aw an' my de-ah wife. So med determine to go home nex' day. "Kan Suh to Tsan Ran Foo about dousands miles distant, and dissa parts China no lailload, no canal. So dissa trivveler declude to ride in horse-carry-chair."
And thus, to the present time, may you see her busily employed in preparing her merchan- dise; then sallying forth to encounter many frowns, but some kind friends and purchasers. Nothing turns her from her steadfast purpose of elevating herself. Reposing on God, she has thus far journeyed securely. Still an invalid, she asks your sympathy, gentle reader.
Kep' look roun'. An' eve'y tem pea-oil light flicker, look roun' to shee who was. Ole tem stop to hol' his ear on flaw shee who come. Flaw rip up; nen go getta shover an' dig long ho' in earf, unnerneaf dissa bed. Nen vay quick shover back ole dissa earf, fix flaw, an' blow out light. "'Ole tem I stay up dissa loof. Vay hunger no wadder; an' cannot rob dissa merchan' becose he dead!
Dissa merchan' reach his netive sheety. Firs' he go immedinity to respec' his fadder-mudder-in-'aw, becose his fadder-mudder dead. Dey vay gnad to shee him vay denight. Dey assa him vay many quishuns; but he tole dem: 'I mus' go to my de-ah wife. I not sheen her so long tem. Nen he smi' hisse'f, an' tole horse-carry-chair-man run wif him quick to fine his de-ah wife.
Begin snole!" "It began to snow?" "On, no; I tay you. Dissa merchan' begin mekka lika dis." Fuey makes a sound that is unmistakable. "'We', nen look shee whatta dissa woman go do. She go to hooks on wa', an' tek down lot her dresses. Nen I shee man step out. Dissa woman whisper to him: "Shee my husban' slip. He bling back glate many go' and sivver!
"Magistrate examine case, assa many quishuns, search bofe dissa house but can't fine who mudder dissa merchan'. Fadder-mudder-in'-aw say, 'We innocent. Daughter say, 'You liars! Her parents med declaration, 'I doan' hed mudder to any person. Two mont's go by. Can't fine who mudder. Nen daughter petition to supere court; say dissa magistrate doan' know how fine who mudder.
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