Goldsmiths Friend Abroad Again by Mark Twain
Goldsmiths Friend Abroad Again by Mark Twain
GOLDSMITH’S FRIEND ABROAD AGAIN
NOTE.–No experience is set down in the following letters which had to be
invented. Fancy is not needed to give variety to the history of a
Chinaman’s sojourn in America. Plain fact is amply sufficient.
LETTER I
SHANGHAI, 18-.
DEAR CHING-FOO: It is all settled, and I am to leave my oppressed and
overburdened native land and cross the sea to that noble realm where all
are free and all equal, and none reviled or abused–America! America,
whose precious privilege it is to call herself the Land of the Free and
the Home of the Brave. We and all that are about us here look over the
waves longingly, contrasting the privations of this our birthplace with
the opulent comfort of that happy refuge. We know how America has
welcomed the Germans and the Frenchmen and the stricken and sorrowing
Irish, and we know how she has given them bread and work, and liberty,
and how grateful they are. And we know that America stands ready to
welcome all other oppressed peoples and offer her abundance to all that
come, without asking what their nationality is, or their creed or color.
And, without being told it, we know that the, foreign sufferers she has
rescued from oppression and starvation are the most eager of her children
to welcome us, because, having suffered themselves, they know what
suffering is, and having been generously succored, they long to be
generous to other unfortunates and thus show that magnanimity is not
wasted upon them.
AH SONG HI.
LETTER II
AT SEA, 18–.
DEAR CHING-FOO: We are far away at sea now; on our way to the beautiful
Land of the Free and Home of the Brave. We shall soon be where all men
are alike, and where sorrow is not known.
The good American who hired me to go to his country is to pay me $12 a
month, which is immense wages, you know–twenty times as much as one gets
in China. My passage in the ship is a very large sum–indeed, it is a
fortune–and this I must pay myself eventually, but I am allowed ample
time to make it good to my employer in, he advancing it now. For a mere
form, I have turned over my wife, my boy, and my two daughters to my
employer’s partner for security for the payment of the ship fare. But my
employer says they are in no danger of being sold, for he knows I will be
faithful to him, and that is the main security.
I thought I would have twelve dollars to, begin life with in America, but
the American Consul took two of them for making a certificate that I was
shipped on the steamer. He has no right to do more than charge the ship
two dollars for one certificate for the ship, with the number of her
Chinese passengers set down in it; but he chooses to force a certificate
upon each and every Chinaman and put the two dollars in his pocket. As
1,300 of my countrymen are in this vessel, the Consul received $2,600 for
certificates. My employer tells me that the Government at Washington
know of this fraud, and are so bitterly opposed to the existence of such
a wrong that they tried hard to have the extor– the fee, I mean,
legalised by the last Congress;–[Pacific and Mediterranean steamship
bills.(Ed. Mem.)]– but as the bill did not pass, the Consul will have
to take the fee dishonestly until next Congress makes it legitimate. It
is a great and good and noble country, and hates all forms of vice and
chicanery.
We are in that part of the vessel always reserved for my countrymen.
It is called the steerage. It is kept for us, my employer says, because
it is not subject to changes of temperature and dangerous drafts of air.
It is only another instance of the loving unselfishness of the Americans
for all unfortunate foreigners. The steerage is a little crowded, and
rather warm and close, but no doubt it is best for us that it should be