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"I helped tip over the fish-frame." Quang Po nodded. "Me t'ink so," he said. "What for you good to me?" demanded Jo. "Me Clistian," responded Quang Po with gravity, as if that one word explained everything. "Clistian must do lite." Jo looked at him. Quang lifted his heavy baskets on his pole. "Goo' by," he said. "Say Quang Po," burst out Jo, "I'm sorry! I won't bother you any more!
I remember reading in the Sydney Bulletin, that a Chinese cook in Sydney when applying for a situation detailed to the mistress his undeniable qualifications, concluding with the memorable announcement, "My Clistian man mum; my eat beef; my say goddam." There was a small village behind us.
Of course, it took me about half-an-hour to Champollion all this information from the cryptical utterances of the friendly Asiatic. "You allee same Christian," I remarked, packing away my breakfast-service. "You go long-a good place bimeby." "Me Clistian allee same you," he replied, not without dignity "Convelt plully long time. 'Paul' Clistian name. Splink' wattel, all li."
As he looked around at the scene, the African and Mongolian sitting attentive while he read the words, "They shall come from the east and the west, and sit down in the kingdom of God," he thought the promise was kept that morning at the ranch. After devotions, Sing surprised them all by saying, "Me Clistian. Me go to mission in Chinatown, San Flancisco. Me say idols no good. Jeso he lub Sing.
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