by street, they crawl along, a swarm of clean and unclean things, so oddly mixed that White men shrink from them, in fear and wrath, as from a company of lepers.
man likes to sleep under the same roof with a Yellow man; no White
woman likes to pass through Jackson Street. A rookery and a cesspool drive off decent folk.
Let us drop into some of these houses, no fear of lepers in our hearts, and see these Asiatics in their homes.
Not far from Lock Sin's tea-house stands a big edifice, first used as the Globe Hotel
; a house four storeys high above the ground, six windows to the front, and boasting of rooms enough for fifty guests.
Including vaults and attics there may be sixty rooms in all. Surrounded by the Chinese rookery, this Globe Hotel
, no longer fit for decent visitors, is let to Lee Si Tut, a rich Chinese
, who re-lets his apartments to Chinese
residents of the better class — to shopmen, waiters, clerks, and agents.
Lee Si Tut takes care to have no tenant of bad repute.
A thief, a rag-picker, a night-prowler cannot hire a bed in his hotel.
No painted women pass his door.
Tan and other lawless games are forbidden.