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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

" (He was the only Chinaman I know who used bad-sounding fancy names.
Most of them are flowery. As you'll see in Calcutta.) We used to find that out
for ourselves. Nothing grows on you so much, if you're white, as the Black
Smoke. A yellow man is made different. Opium doesn't tell on him scarcely at
all; but white and black suffer a good deal. Of course, there are some people
that the Smoke doesn't touch any more than tobacco would at first. They just
doze a bit, as one would fall asleep naturally, and next morning they are
almost fit for work. Now, I was one of that sort when I began, but I've been at
it for five years pretty steadily, and its different now. There was an old aunt
of mine, down Agra way, and she left me a little at her death. About sixty
rupees a month secured. Sixty isn't much. I can recollect a time, seems
hundreds and hundreds of years ago, that I was getting my three hundred a
month, and pickings, when I was working on a big timber contract in Calcutta.
I didn't stick to that work for long. The Black Smoke does not allow of much
other business; and even though I am very little affected by it, as men go, I
couldn't do a day's work now to save my life. After all, sixty rupees is what I
want.


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