CATT, Carrie Chapman
SPEECH, ARTICLE, BOOK FILE
Article: "A True Story"

A TRUE STORY

By CARRIE CHAPMAN CATT

Li Po Ton was a little Chinese
maiden, born in the inland province
of Hupeh, in far-away China.
Her earliest recollection was of sitting,
with her little twin brother,
Chin Wah, in her grandfather's sunny
garden, which ran close down to the
big, blue Han River, and watching the
boats of every imaginable color and
size, as they floated down to the great
Yangtse Kiang. The little maiden's
grandfather, Chin Wah Ton, was
known as a rich man in those parts.
He had two great rice fields, a tobacco
plantation, an orchard of cherries,
and a comfortable house, one the roof of which
was a most wonderful garden,
full of fat cabbages and fresh-smelling
leeks. He was a man of
much influence, and many came to
seek his advice and instructions. At
one time he had been a kuan, and
ever since had carried an added
prestige and dignity. His learning
and piety were famed all through the
province, even so far away as the
great city of Wuchang, where he
made a journey in his richly-upholstered
palanquin twice every year to
sell the merchants there the products
of his lands.

In one particular only had he ever
been unfortunate. He had three
wives and many children; but, despite
his piety, the children had all
been girls, save one. Chin Wah Ton
hated girls, and his whole affection
was lavished upon this son. Upon
him would depend not only the responsibility
of maintaining the family
name, but the more important duty of
performing those annual ceremonials
at the grave of his father, though
which aid alone the soul of Chin Wah
might hope to rest in peace.
The son grew and prospered; but
alas! when he had been married but
three years, he fell sick and died.
The grief of the father was piteous to
see; but in the midst of his sorrow
there was one hope. The son had
himself had a son, the little twin
brother of Li Po Ton, who had been
named after his grandfather, Chin
Wah Ton. So it came about that the
little Chin Wah became the light and
joy of his grandfather's eyes--his one
hope and happiness.
Two more contented children would
be hard to find than these little twins
of Hupeh. All the long, sunny days
they flitted about like gay butterflies

[*Alice Stone Blackwell
Agnes E. Ryan*]

2 A True Story
among the garden plants; now picking
up the red cherries which had
fallen from the big trees; now sailing
in a tub their little toy boats, all
covered with bright streamers, exactly
like those they saw on the great
river; and now climbing to the rooftop
to look at the wonderful garden.
To be sure, when one of the brilliant
butterflies sailed temptingly through
the air and Chin Wah rushed after it
in gay pursuit, little Li Pon Ton was
left far behind in the chase, for her
poor bound feet refused to carry her,
and when she tried to run they ached
piteously. There were many other
games in which she found herelf distanced,
but little Chin Wah was
patient and good, and she was happy-
innocent, sweet little Li Po Ton!
Yet there was another grief which 
sometimes sent a quick, sharp pain
through her little child heart; for she
had not been slow to notice that her
grandfather, the great Chin Wah, had
plenty of caresses and words of affection
for her twin brother, but paid no
more attention to her than if she had
been one of the cabbages in his garden.
Why was it so? We shall see.
One day she missed little Chin
Wah, and although she hunted all
through the garden, he was nowhere
to be found. At last he came running
out of the house, his eyes shining and
his face all aglow with excitement.,
but when he saw Li Po standing
pleased and glad in the shadow of a
rose-bush, he drew himself up in an
affected attitude of superiority and
looked scornfully at her.
"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed. "I can't
play with you any more. I have just
had my first lesson in reading, and
a man is coming every day to teach
me more. I am going to be a great
man, like grandfather, and ride in a 
palanquin but you can't learn to read.
Grandfather said so. You are a girl."
Poor little maid! For the first time
she saw the barrier between them.
The next day, when she cautiously
peeped through the door and saw
Chin Wah standing straight and
proud before a strange man, who was
showing him curious figures on a strip
of red paper, she seemed to realize
at once that the happy playtime had
gone forever. If there had been any
hope left in her mind that the good
times might return, it was effectually
dispelled when, a little later, on
the day of the great annual festival,
she saw little Chin Wah ready to go
with his grandfather to see the ceremonies.
Little girls, and big ones, 
too, for that matter, always stayed at
home, but it was a grand gala day for
the boys. After the manner of his
countrymen, Chin Wah was clad in a
suit entirely new. Very wonderful, Le
Po ton thought it. Indeed, with his
wide trousers of bright green silk, his
tunic of blue brocade bound with 
white  silk and covered with gold embroidery,
his purple embroidered

A True Story 2
shoes, and the long skeins of red silk
braided into his black queue, Chin
Wah did cut a most remarkable figure
and looked very like one of the pretty
butterflies he was fond of chasing,
He caught sight of his little sister and
threw her another of his scornful
glances. It was then she knew the
barrier between them could never be
crossed.
After that she passed her time
curled up on a cushion by her mothers
side, learning to sew and to embroider
Her only pleasure was the
hour she walked in the garden. Although
she had no companion, and
her poor feet could only hobble, yet
the bright skies, the familiar blue
river and the old cherry trees were
restful to her sight and filled her
mind with something akin to peace
and contentment.
One day, when she was twelve
years old, her grandfather sent for
her. She found him sitting cross-legged
on the floor opposite a strange
man, who wore the most wonderful
queue she had ever seen. As he sat
on his cushion it lay on the floor like
a great snake and seemed to reach
half across the floor. Both were
smoking long pipes, and neither
seemed to see her as she entered.
She stood before them motionless
and with downcast eyes. Without
speaking Chin Wah motioned her to
stand nearer his guest. She could
not tell why, but somehow this
stranger, with his fierce black eyes,
filled her with terror, and she felt
that his presence boded her no good.
Cold chills ran up and down her back
as he tapped her on the head, examined
her feet, felt of her arms, shoulders
and legs.
"Pretty girl good girl," grunted
Chin Wah.
Indeed, she was a pretty sight, with
her plump pink cheeks, soft black
eyes, and delicate mouth filled with
sharp white teeth but she had never
heard this before.
"Ugh!" exclaimed the stranger.
"No good; too fat; too little."
With another gesture from Chin
Wah, Li Po Ton was sent from the
room. What could it mean, this new
mystery? She ran straight to her
mother and told her what had happened.
But the mother knew nothing
She could guess, however. She knew
how Chin Wah hated girls. She was
familiar with his grasping disposition,
and had heard his grumblings when
he paid the marriage portion of each
of his many daughters. It was not
unlikely he thought to gain something
from his granddaughter, whom he
had always treated with contempt.
Gently as she could, she told the
maiden what she feared it might 
mean and together they wept. Disentangling
herself from her mother's 
arms, Li Po crept back to the door of
the reception room, and cautiously
peeped within. The stranger was

4   A TRUE STORY

counting out a handful of money, and,
as he did so, muttering between the
puffs of his long pipe, "Too much, too
much!" With her heart filled with
terror, Li Po Ton flew back to her
mother and fell at her feet in a spasm
of agonized weeping.
Soon Chin Wah called her again,
and, bidding her say good-bye to her
mother, told her she was to go away
with the stranger. Chinese children
of both sexes are taught filial respect
and obedience to a remarkable degree,
and Li Po Ton had no thought
to question whither she was going, or
why. With a dull, heavy pain in her
heart, she was placed in the palanquin
by the side of the strange man.
All day long they traveled and the
little girl sat as still as a mouse,
speaking not a word. At night they
went on board a boat. Li Po was
put into a bunk, where, with her head
buried in the blankets, she quietly
cried herself to sleep. In a day or
two they came in sight of a great city;
and the noise and confusion, so
new to her, abstracted her attention
to the exclusion of her own misery.
They they were carried to the biggest
ship she had ever seen, and she
was put to bed in a berth several feet
from the floor. All around her were
other passengers, and not a few girls
near her own age, who seemed also
to belong to the stranger. With these
she might have found companionship,
but soon the rocking of the ship sent
them all to bed, and the dreadful seasickness
made her forget all else.
The time seemed interminable, with
no one to comfort or say one word of
cheer. She wondered in vain to what
strange land she might be going, for
the stranger guardian had never seen
fit to give her any information as to
her destination. Had she known how
to pray she would have prayed for
death. As it was, she looked through
the round port-hole windows at the
rolling, foam-capped waved, and
longed to bury all her sorrows beneath
them forever.
Well might she make this wish, for
Li Po Ton was a slave. At last they
came to land, and she was led down
the gang-plank into a great crowd of
shouting, noisy people. Some men
with a strange dress of blue cloth and
brass buttons hustled her away into a
dark, gloomy room where there were
many Chinamen and a few Chinese
girls. There they stood, glancing
timidly about them, with the same
hunted look in their faces that she
felt must be in her own. She longed
to speak to them; perhaps they could
tell her where they were; but she
saw the fierce eyes of the stranger
upon her and she dared not.
There was a great deal of talking
in a strange language, a great many
questions asked and answered, a
showing of white tickets--all a mystery
to her. Then she was hurried
again into the street, and with all the

A TRUE STORY   5

other girls was seated in a queer vehicle,
which whizzed along the streets
and stopped for people to get on and
off. It all interested, but it terrified
her. At last they got off the car, the
stranger leading, or rather driving
them down a dark, narrow alley.
Here she felt more at home, for the
people were her own countrymen, although
they stared at them in an uncomfortable
manner. The stranger
led them into a long low room, already
crowded with Chinamen. No
sooner were they inside than a big,
fat man, whom the others called Wah
Lee, shouted: "Which is my girl?"
"This is the girl I bought for you,"
said the stranger, as he pointed to Li
Po Ton. "Three hundred dollars is
her price."
After a thorough examination of her
person, which satisfied him that she
was sound and a good bargain, Wah
Lee counted out the gold, and taking
the little girl by the hand, led her
down the street.
Through alley after alley they
passed until they came to the door of
a little tumble-down, dark-looking
building. Wah Lee opened the door
and thrust her inside, locking the door
after her.
Here there were other women, her
own China women. They came and
took her by the hand, patted her on
the back, smoothed her cheek, and
looked into her eyes with sympathy.
There were young girls like herself,
and there was one woman who made
her think of her own mother. The
room was low and narrow. Bunks
rested against the wall on one side.
There was just room for three bunks
from floor to ceiling, and just room
for two tiers placed end to end.
Between the bunks and the opposite
wall was a space about three feet in
width. The only furniture was six
blue-painted wooden stools. There
was a door and one tiny square window,
securely cross-barred with iron
like the windows of a penitentiary.
It was no pleasure to look out at this
window, for there was nothing but
the dark alley to look into, enlivened
only by an occasional passing Chinaman.
As these passers-by never
failed to stare through the iron bars
to grin at them, there was no particular
need of peering out for the
sake of seeing them.
In response to the queries of these
new friends, Li Po Ton related all the
details of her journey, described her
home and early life, and then plied
them with the eager questions which
for so long a time had been uppermost
in her mind: "Why are we here?
What does it mean?"
The women looked from one to another,
and hesitated. Just then Wah
Lee brought in their supper of boiled
cabbage and rice. Li Po Ton was 
hungry, and ate heartily. When her
appetite was satisfied the new master
bade her climb to the top berth.

6   A TRUE STORY

Soon she was sleeping the sleep of
the innocent, so sweetly and so soundly
that, whatever may have transpired
in the little room that night, she
knew nothing of it.
After breakfast, the next morning,
the master locked the door, as usual,
and went away. Seated upon their
wooden stools again, there was nothing
to do but talk. Little by little,
the women acquainted the new-comer
with her fate. They told her she
would not be permitted to rest another
night. 
"But," she said, "can we not run away?"
"Run away?" one of the women replied.
"The door is always locked;
and there is no place to go. Besides,
the master told us once of a woman
who ran away, and when they found
her they boiled her alive in hot lard."
All day the little maid sat stupefied
with horror.
Li Po Ton was one of the twelve
hundred Chinese women slaved in the
city of San Francisco. After supper
that night, Wah Lee made her go to
bed again, and she climbed up to her
berth. Soon he returned, bringing
with him a group of men. One placed
a piece of money in his hand, and was
bidden to climb up to her berth.
When he had gone another came, and
then another, until the poor girl had
fainted. Night after night the experience
was repeated. Sometimes
she screamed; but Wah Lee only
bound her mouth, and gave her no
breakfast. And this was in the land
that boasts liberty to be the inalienable
right of every individual.
Many weeks passed. The pink
faded from her cheeks. Her eyes had
grown heavy and full, and dark
circles surrounded them. Wah Lee
observed the change, and bade her eat
more rice and cabbage.
One night, at a late hour, the room
was deserted. Her sisters in misery
were asleep. She could hear their
heavy breathing. Wah Lee had gone,
leaving the door slightly ajar. It had
never happened before. Hastily slipping
on her tunic, and bunching up
the blankets to look as if they covered
her sleeping form, she climbed
down to the flood. Outside all was
blackness, but voices could be heard
at one end of the alley. Closing the
door behind her, she stepped into the
street, and in the shadow hurried
away. On she went, she knew not
and cared not where. Once her heart
stood still, and a memory of the woman
who had been boiled in lard flitted
across her mind, as she found herself
close to a group of Chinamen;
but she slunk back into a dark corner
and held her breath. They passed
by, and as fast as her poor, deformed
feet could carry her, she hurried on.
Where could she go? What could
she do? If only there might be some
little dark corner, some forgotten
spot, where no human being would 

A TRUE STORY   7

ever look, she would hide there. To
starve in peace was the boon she
craved.
The darkness was lifting, and it
would soon be morning. Not a moment
must be lost. With feet racked
with pain she turned a corner and
entered what seemed to be another
dark alley. Hurrying on, she
stumbled, and fell prostrate to the
ground. It was some time before she
could rise, and when she did so the
gray dawn of the coming day enabled
her to see her surroundings. It was
a rough enclosure, filled with all sorts
of debris. Sitting on the ground, she
spied a little hole which seemed to
invite her to enter. This might do.
Creeping on her hands and knees, she
crawled inside. It was an angle
made by a hogshead, the fence, and
two ash-barrels. A wide board partially
covered the opening through
which she had crawled. She placed
it so that the opening was entirely
concealed. Oh, if she could only
know she was safe! She unbound
her aching feet, and rubbed them
smartly with her hands, until they
felt relieved. Then, lying down on
the ground, with a block for a pillow,
she fell asleep.
She was aroused once by voices
near her hiding-place. Not a breath
or movement betrayed her. How still
she was, her eyes starting from her
head, her cheek paled with fright!
Poor hunted thing! Then voices
came again. This time they had been
preceded by the rumbling of a big
wagon. It was the scavenger who
had come to carry away the ashes.
The barrels were moved. She was
discovered lying there with her face
buried in her hands. She had fainted.
When she recovered consciousness
she was lying in a clean white bed,
and a kindly-faced woman was bending
anxiously over her. Fortunately,
her feet had led her to the very door
of the "Home for the Friendless," and
if ever there was a creature who
needed such protection, it was little
Li Po Ton. The woman at her side
was Mrs. Miller, the matron. But
the little Chinese girl was afraid of
Americans. She had suffered so
cruelly in their land, she thought they
must all be wicked. She turned her
face away, and wept bitterly. Food
was brought, but she would not eat.
An interpreter was sent for, a German,
who had lived many years in
China, and who was renowned among
tourists as the best guide to the Chinese
quarters in the city. He was
supposed to know every Chinaman
and China woman in San Francisco;
but Li Po Ton was a new-comer, and
he did not know her. It was a long
time before she could place confidence
enough in his friendship to tell
him anything; but at last, in response
to his kind and gentle questions, she
told him the story of her life. Every
word was translated to Mrs. Miller,


8   A TRUE STORY

and Li Po Ton was assured she should
have every care, and need suffer no
fear of Wah Lee.
Somehow, a knowledge of her presence
there leaked out. The Chinese
master heard the rumor, and speedily
a write of habeas corpus was issued,
to command Mrs. Miller to preduce
her change in court the next
morning. Here was a dilemma. A
lawyer was consulted, but he could
offer little consolation. Wah Lee, he
said, would probably bring Chinese
friends enough to prove that the girl
was his wife, and the court would give
her back to him.
The interpreter was sent for again,
and, as gently as possible, Mrs. Miller
tried to explain the court and the law,
and the possible outcome. But what
did Li Po Ton know of American
courts and habeas corpus acts? She
understood nothing of what was said
except that she would see Wah Lee
the next day, and perhaps would have
to go away with him again. She ate
no supper, and went to bed at an
early hour. Before retiring, the matron
stepped into her room. She
seemed to be sleeping soundly. The
next morning she looked at her again.
Something strange in her appearance
made her touch the girl's cheek. It
was cold. She turned down the
blankets. The bed was saturated
with blood, and a pen-knife, belonging
to the matron, was plunged into her
heart. Poor, hunted, wrong Li Po
Ton! She had at last found liberty
in death.

Copyright by The Woman's Journal. Published by the Woman's
Journal and the Massachusetts Woman Suffrage Association, 585
Boylston street, Boston, Mass.

For news of the suffrage movement all over the world, read
the only national suffrage newspaper, The Woman's Journal. 585
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