But ’twere not well if long you tarried
Here in my den, you know,
For I’m a man sedate and married;—
Pick up your skirts and go.
Waitman Barbe.
THE GAMBLERS.
The rain splashed in his face, soaked through his garments, ran down his back and trickled through his wide sleeves in an almost vindictive manner. But he shambled on indifferently, slowly and heavily, apparently totally unconscious of physical discomfort. Looking into that bald face one could not penetrate its placidity, and even the eyes seemed expressionless. The small, well-shaped hands did not look as if they were accustomed to manual labor; nevertheless his clothing consisted of the ordinary blue blouse and pantaloons of a working Chinaman, and it was a very dilapidated Yankee hat around which he had wound his queue. The peculiar means by which he prevented the last mentioned part of his costume from being blown off by the wind and rain attracted some little attention from the passers-by; but to jocose remarks and amused smiles he paid no heed.
Ah Lin was proceeding to a gambling resort, and his thoughts were not with the scenes and faces about him.