An Exraordinary Movement in China—or an alteration in "The Willow Pattern"—at last!!
It became our duty, at all hazards, to teach them. We resolved, even at the pain of leaving our homes and wives (it's no use thy getting into a passion, oh, Tee-Tee!), to go forth amongst them, and accept the presents of gold and treasures they would doubtless be too glad to lay at our feet, in exchange for that intellectual wealth which we alone are capable of dealing out with a layish hand. At any rate we could prevent their doing much mischief—by taking the treasures from them.
But they are such a set of fools!
Our words of wisdom they receive with mocking laughter, or by calling on their idols to send down curses on our eyes and limbs. So ignorant are they, that they have no fear of the Emperor before their eyes; and tell us, if we want gold we must dig for it.
And this is our reward! Of course digging, for a true-souled Chinaman, is out of the question. In the first place, we should have to cut our nails. In the second place, we should have to exert ourselves. In the third place, one process indispensable to the work of gold-seeking is called washing—a revolting idea!
The result is, that did we not, in our superior wisdom, know the value of rat and puppy (which the barbarians despise), the chop-sticks of your Poo Poo and his companions would be unoccupied.
We are not alone, however, in our misfortunes. There are several men here of a superior tribe—which I think I have heard called Dan-dees—who, like ourselves, have been trained in the ways of wisdom, to despise mere physical labour, and think only of Man's superiority as evidenced in their own persons; who came like ourselves, expecting to be received with rich gifts and open arms by the drudging savages, whose wilderness they had condescended to enlighten by their presence. These men are reviled and neglected because they do not like to soil their hands—and have never learnt to do anything!
My paper is out; and as, I dare say, thou hast already forgotten me, and taken up with that atrocious rascal, Tom Tom—to whom thou wilt probably hand this letter for a pipe-light, without having even looked at it—I need add no more than the signature of the unfortunate
POO POO.