I glanced around, and my failing confidence revived.
"Call those four Chinamen yonder," I said. "They saw it all. I remember
their faces perfectly. They will prove that the white men set the dog on
me when I was not harming them."
"That won't work," said he. "In this country white men can testify
against Chinamen all they want to, but Chinamen ain't allowed to testify
against white men!"
What a chill went through me! And then I felt the indignant blood rise
to my cheek at this libel upon the Home of the Oppressed, where all men
are free and equal--perfectly equal--perfectly free and perfectly equal.
I despised this Chinese-speaking Spaniard for his mean slander of the
land that was sheltering and feeding him. I sorely wanted to sear his
eyes with that sentence from the great and good American Declaration of
Independence which we have copied in letters of gold in China and keep
hung up over our family altars and in our temples--I mean the one about
all men being created free and equal.
But woe is me, Ching Foo, the man was right. He was right, after all.
There were my witnesses, but I could not use them. But now came a new
hope. I saw my white friend come in, and I felt that he had come there
purposely to help me. I may almost say I knew it. So I grew easier.
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