The Heathen Chinee (1871)

by Bret Harte

THE HEATHEN CHINEE.

BY

BRET HARTE.

BOSTON:
JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.

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AH SIN WAS HIS NAME.

"THE HEATHEN CHINEE."

BY

BRET HARTE.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY S. EYTINGE, JR.

BOSTON:

JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY,

LATE TICKNOR & FIELDS, AND FIELDS, OSGOOD, Co.

1871.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871,
BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

 

University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co.,
Cambridge.

Which I Wish to Remark.

 

PUBLISHERS' NOTE.

Mr. Eytinge's illustrations to "The Heathen Chinee" have been submitted to the author, and have received his approval. The present is the only illustrated edition of the poem published with the author's sanction.

PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM
TRUTHFUL JAMES

---

TABLE MOUNTAIN, 1870.

Which I wish to remark,—
And my language is plain,—
That for ways that are dark
And for tricks that are vain,
The heathen Chinee is peculiar.
Which the same I would rise to explain.

Ah Sin was his name;
And I shall not deny
In regard to the same
What that name might imply,
But his smile it was pensive and childlike,
As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye.

Which We Had a Small Game.

It was August the third;
And quite soft was the skies;
Which it might be inferred
That Ah Sin was likewise;
Yet he played it that day upon William
And me in a way I despise.

Which we had a small game,
And Ah Sin took a hand:
It was Euchre. The same
He did not understand;
But he smiled as he sat by the table,
With the smile that was childlike and bland,

Till At Last He Put Down a Right Bower.

Yet the cards they were stocked
In a way that I grieve,
And my feelings were shocked
At the state of Nye's sleeve:
Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers,
And the same with intent to deceive.

But the hands that were played
By that heathen Chinee,
And the points that he made,
Were quite frightful to see,—
Till at last he put down a right bower,
Which the same Nye had dealt unto me.

And He Went For That Heathen Chinee.

Then I looked up at Nye,
And he gazed upon me;
And he rose with a sigh,
And said, "Can this be?
We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor,"—
And he went for that heathen Chinee.

In the scene that ensued
I did not take a hand,
But the floor it was strewed
Like the leaves on the strand
With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding,
In the game "he did not understand."

The Scene That Ensued.

In his sleeves, which were long,
He had twenty-four packs,—
Which was coming it strong,
Yet I state but the facts;
And we found on his nails, which were taper,
What is frequent in tapers,—that's wax.

Which is why I remark,
And my language is plain,
That for ways that are dark,
And for tricks that are vain,
The heathen Chinee is peculiar,—
Which the same I am free to maintain.

In His Sleeves He Had Twenty-Four Packs.

Which Is Why I Remark.