In the evening the principal of the establishment received the usual report from each clerk of the business done in the course of the day. “I,” said one of them with a triumphant air, “bought a youen-pao of silver, and made two ounces by it.” He produced the ingot, which the chief received with a smile, soon changing into a frown. “What have you got here?” cried he. “This is not silver!” The ingot was handed round, and all the clerks saw that indeed it was base bullion. “I know the Tartar,” said the clerk who had purchased it, “and will have him up before the Mandarin.”
The satellites of justice were forthwith dispatched after the roguish Tartar, whose offence, proved against him, was matter of capital punishment. It was obvious that the ingot was base bullion, and on the face of the affair there was clear proof that the Tartar had sold it. The Tartar, however, stoutly repudiated the imputation. “The humblest of the humble,” said he, “craves that he may be allowed to put forth a word in his defence.” “Speak,” said the Mandarin, “but beware how you say aught other than the exact truth.” “It is true,” proceeded the Tartar, “that I sold a youen-pao at this person’s shop, but it was all pure silver. I am a Tartar, a poor, simple man, and these people, seeking to take advantage of me, have substituted a false for my genuine ingot. I cannot command many words, but I pray our father and mother, (_i.e._ the Mandarin), to have this false youen-pao weighed.” The ingot was weighed, and was found to contain fifty-two ounces. The Tartar now drew from one of his boots a small parcel, containing, wrapped in rags, a piece of paper, which he held up to the Mandarin. “Here is a certificate” cried he, “which I received at the shop, and which attests the value and weight of the youen-pao that I sold.” The Mandarin looked over the paper with a roguish smile, and then said: “According to the testimony of the clerk himself who wrote this certificate, this Mongol sold to him a youen-pao weighing fifty ounces; this youen-pao of base bullion weighs fifty-two ounces; this, therefore, cannot be the Mongol’s youen-pao; but now comes the question, whose is it? Who are really the persons that have false bullion in their possession?” Every body present, the Mandarin included, knew perfectly well how the case stood; but the Chinese magistrate, tickled with the Tartar’s ingenuity, gave him the benefit of the clerk’s dull roguery, and dismissed the charge; but not so the accusers, who were well bastinadoed, and would have been put to death as coiners, had they not found means to appease justice by the present of some ingots of purer metal. It is only, however, upon very rare and extraordinary occasions that the Mongols get the better of the Chinese. In the ordinary course of things, they are everywhere, and always, and in every way, the dupes of their neighbours who by dint of cunning and unprincipled machinations, reduce them to poverty.