“Hey chinaman, where are you going”?

Said a cowboy too full up on beer,

“You best go on back to your laundry,

Because we don’t allow slant eyes in here”,

But the chinaman just walked on by him,

As though he hadn’t heard the remark,

And his response was the same,

When the cowboy hollered again,

And a couple of other men laughed,

He knew there was going to be trouble,

But he would not be the one to begin,

He would not let them say at the outcome,

That the person that caused it was him,

Instead he continued his journey,

And silently walked to the bar,

Until the cowboy, not known for his patients,

Shouted, “boy you better stay where you are,

You take another step, I swear,

I’ll shoot you where you stand,

It’s not polite among us whites,

To plumb ignore a man,

And I told you once, you sawn off runt,

You slant eyed yellow chink,

You find yourself, somewhere else,

If you’re looking for a drink,

We don’t like your kind around these parts,

Among us gentle folk”,

The barroom fell to silence then,

As the oriental spoke,

His voice was soft and gentle,

And disarmingly polite,

His pronunciation perfect,

His Chinese accent slight,

“My name is Lin Chow Ho”, he said,

“Not slant eyed yellow chink,

And you are not the gentle folk,

That you would have me think,

Your mind is filled with hatred,

Your blood with alcohol,

And you think the gun you carry,

Will scare my timid soul,

But it takes more than a pistol,

To make a man you know,

And it takes more than a drunkard,

To frighten Lin Chow Ho,

So if courage only comes to you,

With a pistol in your hand,

Then please feel free to use it,

Against this simple chinaman,

But beware, for not all weapons,

Are so easy to detect,

And some are far more deadly,

Than a person might suspect”,

                            The cowboy sneered, “I told you twice,

I won’t tell you no more,

You turn your yellow carcass round,

And head it for the door,

Because if you don’t there’s gonna’ be,

A killing here tonight”,

Lin Chow, just gave a little nod,

And said, ” perhaps you’re right,

But no-one lives forever,

No matter how they try,

For man is just a passing cloud,

Across an endless sky”,

With that the cowboys anger,

Could no longer be contained,

It showed like thunder in his eyes,

And took hold of his brain,

His pistol flashed into his hand,

To bark the cowboys wrath,

But Lin Chow quickly turned aside,

To let the bullet pass,

A second shot, and then a third,

But Lin Chow as before,

Would twist his body out of harm,

As he moved across the floor,

Then faster than a snake can strike,

He caught the cowboys gun,

And struck the cowboy, hard and fast,

In the temple as he spun,

The cowboys head snapped to the right,

His eyes began to roll,

His heart would stop it’s lifetimes work,

At Lin Chows second blow,

His lifeless fingers lost their grip,

On the pistol as he died,

And Lin Chow laid the weapon,

On the floor close to his side,

Then turning to the people,

That had witnessed the event,

He said, in plain sincerity,

“I’m sorry”, and he went,

Well no-one knows where he came from,

But we’ve all seen him quite a lot since,

Of course these days he’s known as mister Ho,

Not slant eyed yellow chink,

And nobody says he’s unwelcome,

At the places he chooses to go,

In fact we all tip our hats quite politely,

And say, “Good morning to you, mister Ho”.

 By S.E.Ralph

5-11-2004