“Abashed and mortified at this exhibition of superior greatness, and enjoying a full sense of my littleness—my comparative _nothingness_—I turned away, trembling. If I had never before felt that I was but mortal, I felt it now—felt it sensibly, deeply, awfully, as I shrunk from the stern presence of this great being. “I was patient, however. I remembered that the morning was a little damp; and, wishing to return good for evil, I informed this mighty man that there was a more genial climate located somewhere—a climate where they have warm weather the year round—and recommended his emigration thither at once. All this in the most laconic language imaginable. “The Atheist claims that there is no God: but he is clearly mistaken. Just let him go to that post-office window and inquire for a paper or letter inopportunely, and he will see before him the stern, exalted countenance of as fine a little god as any one would wish to see. Vulcan, the god of fire; Mars, the god of war; Neptune, the god of the deep; and Jupiter, the great big god of all, are simply nowhere, compared with that pompous and pretentious clerk of the P. O.! “Full of these thoughts, I wended my way westward, towards the more elevated regions of the city. I had not gone far till I met a singular being, whose name (I have since learned) was John Hung Kee Dung Kee Lung Kee Mung Kee Choo Bang. This person, I understood, constituted a considerable portion of the population of San Francisco. The most remarkable feature about him was, that he didn’t resemble anybody else I had ever seen, in _any_ feature. His color was a mixture about half-way between that of a bay colt and that of a cream-colored pony. His nose was the puggest of the pug, and the ugliest of the ugly. He wore a blue cotton petticoat on each leg, and a black shirt, which he hadn’t the decency to stuff in anywhere. He had a pair of skates on, but the iron part was broken off, and he walked on the wood. He had no hat on, but his head was tied up in a piece of goods such as they make black cotton umbrellas of. He had no hair on his head at all, except just one single one that grew out at the back about as thick as a corn-cob, and hung down to his heels, where it came to a point. This, I fancied, would be very convenient to hang him. He appeared to be an adult male, not younger than fifteen, or older than forty-nine; but somewhere along about there. “I have been informed that this individual was imported in large numbers from a little island, somewhere in the Pacific, called China. It is but a small island, inhabited by only a few hundred millions of these people; so they can never do much harm anywhere.