ed paper lanterns. On de flo' we see some folks sleepin' wit some
li'l footstools 'longside 'em, an some of 'em was smokin' long-stemmed
pipes. I figger mebbe dey goin' put us to sleep an' knock us in de haid.
I look back an' see de do' swingin' shut, slow like, so I run back an'
stick my foot in hit and shove hit back open.

"Jack an me run back de same way we come. Pretty soon we find anotha
sailor an' go wit him to a yaller man dat could speak English. He pin a
li'l yaller flag on our shirts an' say hit de badge o' de Chinese
gov'ment, an' we be safe, cause we b'long to de U.S. navy.

"We go out to see de sights, but nevah hear one mo' word o' English; so
ahftah a time we go back to de ship an' stay ontell we put to sea again.

"Nex' we sails fo' Panama. W'en we ties up dere, Jack an' me goes
ashore. Ah nevah befo' see such pretty high-yaller gals in all my life.
Looks lak dey made o' marble, dey so puffick.

"Me an' Jack gits likkered up de fust thing, an' I done lose 'im. Dat
worry me some, 'cause we need each otha. Wit' his haid an' my arms we
mek one pretty good man. Dat lil Irishman was a fightin' fool. Weighed
only 90 pounds, but strong an' wiry. Co'se he git licked mos' do time,
but he allus ready fer anotha fight.

"Didn't lak for folks to call him Irish. 'He fodder was Irish and he
mudder American,' he say; 'I be'n born aboard a Dutch brig in French
waters. Now you tell me what flag I b'longs undah.'

"Wen we gits back to de ship, de boys tells me some English sailors beat
Jack up in de sportin' house. Sumbuddy sing out 'Beat it--de marines
comin'!, an' dey all run for de ship an leff Jack dere.

"I don't ahsk no mo' questions; jes' start back on a run to find my
buddy. At dat time I weigh 180, an' was pretty husky fer my age. Bein'
likkered plenty, I nevah thought 'bout gittin' beat up mahse'f.

"W'en I gits back, dere was a big Limey stahndin' wid his arms crost de
do'. 'All dem in, stay in, an' all de outs stay out,' he say.

"Now I be'n trained to respec' white folks--what is white folks--ever
sence I bawn; but w'en I think 'bout Jack in dere, hahf dead, mebbe, dat
Limey don't look none too white to me. I take a runnin' staht an' but
'im in de belly wid my haid.

"De nex' do' was locked, an' I bus' hit down. Dere was Jack, 'bout hahf
done f'. Blood all over de fla'. Ev'thing in de room busted up an'
tipped over. I hauls 'im to a back do', but hit locked. I kick out a
winder, heaves 'im onto my