United States or Vatican City ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
'He's talkin' Chinese, an', says I, 'they're goin' to sind him to th' laundhry, says I. 'Look, I says. 'They're puttin' him in th' clothes-basket, I says. 'If they do, says he, 'he'll niver come back, he says, 'or else he'll have another name, he says. 'Let's buy a scoor ca-ard, says he.
Dooley, "it seems he wint into me frind Hip Lung's laundhry to get his shirt an' it wasn't ready. Followin' what Hogan calls immemoryal usage, he called Hip Lung such names as he cud remimber and thried to dhrag him around th' place be his shinin' braid. But instead iv askin' f'r mercy, as he ought to, Hip Lung swung a flat-iron on him an' thin ironed out his spine as he galloped up th' stairs.
'Yes, says I, 'th' honor iv Fr-rance an' th' honor iv th' ar-rmy 'll come out all r-right, I says; 'but it wudden't do anny harm f'r to sind th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch gin'rals to th' laundhry, I says. 'I think ye'd have to sind Gin'ral Merceer's to th' dyer's, I says. 'Ye niver can take out th' spots, an' it might as well all be th' same color, I says.
And so it passed through th' undherwurruld that th' color line was not to be dhrawn anny more, an' Hogan says that almost anny time he ixpicts to see a black face peerin' through a window an' in a few years I'll be takin' in laundhry in a basement instead iv occypyin' me present impeeryal position, an' ye'll be settin' in front iv ye'er cabin home playin' on a banjo an' watchin' ye'er little pickahinnissies rollickin' on th' ground an' wondhrn' whin th' lynchin' party'll arrive.
Be careful th' next time ye think iv kickin' an empty ash-barl down yefer frind Lip Hung's laundhry. "It's hard f'r me to think iv th' Japs this way. But 'tis th' part iv prudence. A few years ago I didn't think anny more about a Jap thin abont anny other man that'd been kept in th' oven too long. They were all alike to me.
You an' me looks at a Chinyman as though he wasn't good f'r annything but washin' shirts, an' not very good at that. Tis wan iv th' spoorts iv th' youth iv our gr-reat cities to rowl an impty beer keg down th' steps iv a Chinee laundhry, an' if e'er a Chinyman come out to resint it they'd take him be th' pigtail an' do th' joynt swing with him. But th' Chinyman at home's a diff'rent la-ad.
'What we want, he says, 'is freedom, he says; 'an', if ye think we have been in th' woods dodgin' th' savage corryspondint f'r two year, he says, 'f'r th' sake iv r-rushin' yer laundhry home, he says, ''tis no wondher, he says, 'that th' r-roads fr'm Marinette to Kalamazoo is paved with goold bricks bought be th' people iv ye'er native State, he says.
He's with his frinds an' they're manny iv thim an' he's rowlin' th' beer kegs himsilf an' Westhren Civilization is down in th' laundhry wondhrin' whin th' police'll come along."
Word Of The Day