"Silence!"

It was the judge that spoke. The interpreter whispered to me that I must
keep perfectly still. He said that no statement would be received from
me--I must only talk through my lawyer.

I had no lawyer. In the early morning a police court lawyer (termed, in
the higher circles of society, a "shyster") had come into our den in the
prison and offered his services to me, but I had been obliged to go
without them because I could not pay in advance or give security. I told
the interpreter how the matter stood. He said I must take my chances on
the witnesses then. 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