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Updated: June 12, 2025
Trask turned to see the steward waving his hands at the rail, and ran toward him in rage, telling him to be still. "Don' you lay han's on me!" yelled Doc, backing away to where Shanghai Tom stood. Behind the pair was Marjorie. "So you're in with 'em, eh?" sneered Trask. "I'm in fo' mahse'f!" declared Doc, lowering his head and regarding Trask from under his brows. He put his hand in his pocket.
I very soon began to miss my life at Court, and, although I had many friends in Shanghai and was invited to dinner parties and dances; still I did not seem to be able to enjoy myself. Everything seemed different to what I had been accustomed to in Peking and I simply longed for the time when I should be able to return to Her Majesty.
His great grandmother'd been a half-breed Batavian nigger, and his father was Irish. Bull himself was nothin', havin' been born at sea, a thousand miles from the nearest land. However, that ain't got nothin' to do with the story. Bull McGinty was skipper an' owner of the schooner Dashin' Wave, 258 tons net register, when I met him in Shanghai Nelson's place.
"'Bout that time; just rucked up and floated with the tide." "Not much chance o' spottin' him by his looks, eh?" "Nor anything else, you bet. Reg'larly cleaned out. Look at his pockets." "Wharf-rats or shanghai men?" "Betwixt and between, I reckon. Man who found him says he's got an ugly cut just back of his head. Ye can't see it for his floating hair."
Now and then he invaded Chinatown and ate in their underground restaurants, disdaining the "chop suey" and sweets invariably served to tourists for the more palatable and engaging viands he had learned to like and name in Shanghai and Canton. Fortunately, he could afford to indulge his bent, for the value of his inheritance had increased extraordinarily in the past decade.
I first met Bull McGinty in Shanghai Nelson's boarding house, over in Oregon Street, not three blocks from where we're settin' now. I was twenty years old an' holdin' a second mate's ticket, for I'd been battin' around the world on clipper ships since I was fourteen, an' I'd bit my way to the front quicker than most. Bull was a big dark man, edgin' up onto the thirty mark.
As a member of the National Democratic Convention in 1876, he cast his vote for Tilden and Hendricks, and in 1884 was Presidential Elector at large on the Democratic ticket. President Cleveland sent him as Consul General to Shanghai, China, in 1886. In 1890 he was Chairman of the State Advisory Committee, of the straightout Democratic party.
The commander of the Sirdar, homeward bound from Shanghai, knew that he was about to be stretched on the rack when he took his seat at the saloon table. "Is it true, captain, that we are running into a typhoon?" demanded her ladyship. "From whom did you learn that, Lady Tozer?" Captain Ross was wary, though somewhat surprised. "From Miss Deane.
You bet I know. Blackie and me knew before ever we come on board this cursed hooker. The Swede didn't shanghai us, you bet!" "Oh, stow that sort of guff, Boston," I told him. "Maybe the Swede didn't shanghai you; but if he didn't, it was because you and your mate were willing to ship with the devil himself in order to get out of the country." My words touched his temper, as I thought they would.
A frame about three feet wide and four feet long is built over and around the wheel, and a coolie will carry as much as half a ton on one of them. Along the Yangtze a considerable quantity of cotton is grown, and I went out into some of the fields in the neighborhood of Shanghai.
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