"Hey, Chinaman," said Ziffy in the noon-hour recess. "Go out and get an ice pop for me, will yer?"
"No, I'm going home," said Tom.
"Hey, what's the matter? Doncha know me?"
"Sure, I do."
"Well, I say, go out and get an ice pop for me, and beat it."
"I can't. I'm going home for lunch."
...Ziffy came closer, his hands in his pockets, affecting an easy, confident tone. "So you won't do what Ziffy tells you to do, is that it?"
"Leave him alone," said Steve.
"I'd like to know who's going to stand up to Ziffy." He advanced glowering and slapped Tom's cheek. "You Chink!"
Tom winced.
"Will you do it now or do you wanna fight?"
"I won't do it and I won't fight."
"Yellow!"
The other boys stood watching. From the yard Eva approached, wondering what Tom had got into.
"Say, is it true Chinese girls got two horizontal mouths?" Ziffy was bent on a fight.
"You stop that," said Steve.
"Say, you're not sweet on his sister, are you?"
"You don't have to pick on him. He's done you no harm."
"Tom, what's the matter?" Eva asked.
"Your brother is yellow, that's what's the matter. He's scared, that's what he is. Will you fight or not?" demanded Ziffy.
"What for? Suppose you win; that proves you got stronger muscles than me. That doesn't make you right."
The boys were confused. Some shouted one thing, some shouted another.
"Come on, fight me if you want to prove you're not a yellow dog."
"Let me see your arm," said Tom slowly.
Ziffy raised his arm, but Steve held him.
Tom raised his hand calmly and felt around Ziffy's biceps approvingly. "I won't fight you," he said. "You got stronger muscles. Makes no sense." Tom started to go away.
"So you are yellow."
"I know you got stronger muscles. I know it without fighting you. But that's all you got. I say I won't fight you,and I won't buy an ice pop for you. Get it yourself."
Tom pushed his way through the circle. Ziffy frowned miserably, his restive fists threatening action. Clutching Tom's arm, he said, "You're not going to get away with this. You Chinaman."
Tom turned around. "What's wrong with Chinamen?"
"You're a furriner."
"And you?"
"I'm an American."
"And your father, Hruschka?"
"I won't let you say anything about my father. He came to America."
"So did I, like your father."
Ziffy was furious. But Tom was out of reach already. Holding Eva's hand, he walked out of the school yard, to the amazement of all the boys.
"What was the matter?" asked Eva.
"It's nothing. He called me Chinaman. I don't see what's wrong with that. It's like Englishman, Frenchman, Dutchman, laundryman. I don't see what's wrong with the word."
--Chinatown Family (1948), by Lin Yutang (1895-1976)
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