America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Chapter 368 Literacy Test
In the 19th century on the American continent, especially in the west, voting was not a very easy thing.

Bidding stations are set up in places with relatively convenient transportation, such as cities and large towns.

The most difficult part of the journey requires voters to ride horses, sit in carriages, or even walk on two legs.

Mail-in ballots, which made a certain yellow-haired man more than 100 years later, were not popular at that time.

People are more keen to go to the scene to cast their own sacred vote.

Of course, such a vote takes courage.

Because voting was an extremely dangerous thing until the United States introduced the "Australian voting system" in the late 19s.

Each political party prints its own party's ballots in newspapers it controls.

Voters then cut ballots from newspapers and wrote their names on them.

They arrive at polling places and, after certifying to staff that they are eligible to vote, make their way through the crowd.

In full view, climb up a platform against the wall and pass your ballot through a window to the election judge inside.

Just like it is now.

At the polling place in Albuquerque, under a large parasol, Scott and the fat congressman watched the voting.

Not far from the opposite side of them, Haring led a few Democrats to stare at him.

There is a posture of "life and death are bearish, if you don't accept it, you will do it, if you have the feeling to do it again".

Scott felt his nose hurt again.

Both of them have actually been wandering back and forth between polling stations in New Mexico.

But by coincidence, they met unexpectedly here today.

There were a large number of people at the scene, and supporters of both parties held up signs.

The names of the two candidates, Gardner and Davis, were written on the sign.

The two sides were at war with each other. If it weren't for the presence of the police to maintain order, they would have become one with each other long ago.

"What about the other polling places?" Scott pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped the fluid from under his nose.

Ever since Harlem broke the bridge of his nose in Parliament last time, his nose has always been runny from time to time.

"Based on visual inspection, our basic market is quite stable." The fat councilor said while wiping the sweat from his brow.

If it were changed to before, Scott would feel at ease.

But now it's different.

"Where is Chen Jianqiu? Where have you seen him recently?" Scott asked.

"Huh? I didn't see him, and I haven't heard about him for more than a week." The fat councilor hurriedly replied.

Scott said "Oh".

He looked calm on the surface, but inside he seemed to be stuck with something.

The old man always felt that Chen Jianqiu would emerge from somewhere and make a big news.

Scott continued to stare at the voting scene.

Suddenly, he discovered something very serious.

"Why are there so many Chinese at the scene?" Scott frowned and asked the fat congressman.

"I told you a long time ago that Chen Jianqiu got a bunch of Chinese in by taking advantage of the loopholes in the constitution, and even obtained legal citizenship. You are..."

The fat congressman grumbled that he wanted to say that Scott "shoots himself in the foot".

But he looked at the old man's face, but still didn't dare to say anything.

"I mean, how could they come to vote!" Scott was really annoyed, "Have you seen so many Chinese vote in this country in your life?!"

The fat MP knew what Scott meant.

Chinese in the United States have never been interested in politics, let alone voting.

It is unheard of for so many Chinese to appear at the polling station.

Needless to say, nine times out of ten it was Chen Jianqiu's fault again.

"He has citizenship, what should you do?" The fat councilor spread his hands and said helplessly.

Scott took a deep breath, turned his head to look at the fat congressman, his face was ashen, obviously suppressing his anger.

"Use the literacy test! Do you still want me to teach you how to do it?"

The fat congressman was stunned.

The so-called literacy test refers to the on-site administrator of the bidding station asking some cultural questions to the voter to prove that he is a voter who is capable of making voting judgments.

It was originally a bill used by the southern states to target those black people.

Because the illiteracy rate of blacks at that time was 40% to 60%, this bill basically kicked a large part of blacks out of the category of voters.

How can you vote if you can't even write your own name? !
And New Mexico, just passed this law.

This is what Scott uses in case of a rainy day.

He hadn't originally planned to use it because of the state's large Hispanic electorate.

But now, he decided to use this thing to kick those Chinese out.

A few days later, there was one more person and one more table at each polling station's identity verification point.

Administrators began asking those voters, one by one, cultural questions.

"Please read this line aloud!"

A staff member with brown curly hair handed a note with a line of English letters in front of a young Chinese man standing in front of the table.

This Chinese guy has short hair and looks a bit dull.

He carefully took the note from the staff member and frowned.

A few white men in black suits folded their arms, ready to watch his jokes.

"Shall we get him an interpreter?" They winked at each other. "I'm afraid he doesn't understand what Hughes wants him to do."

The young man took a deep breath and read word by word:

"My-family's-grazing-farm-has-two-head-cows, one-only-black, and one-only-also-black."

Not quite standard, but very clear English came out of the young man's mouth.

The white people looked at each other.

This person actually speaks English? !

The staff were dumbfounded.

Before being sent here, Scott had had them speak privately.

We must embarrass those Chinese and kick those Chinese out of the ranks of voters.

But what should we do now?
He turned his head and looked helplessly at the white man behind him as if asking for help.

The man was a lawyer, a friend of Scott's, who had come to watch.

The lawyer knew it was time to do it himself.

He thought for a moment, took out a pen from his pocket, and took a note on the table.

He quickly wrote a paragraph on it and handed it to the Chinese boy.

You can't still do this, can you?

The boy took the note.

He actually changed his frowning face just now, and grinned, revealing a smile:
"This is easy! Boss Chen taught us in night school!"

"In the course of the development of human affairs, when one nation must break free from another nation, and stand among the nations of the world as independent and equal, in accordance with the laws of nature and the will of God, out of respect for human opinion , must declare the reasons which drove them to independence."

All the white people present were stunned, unable to speak a word.

Another Chinese behind him asked him in a low voice:
"How do you know?"

"Boss Chen said this is called the Declaration of Independence. I passed the test last month. This is the first paragraph. I guess you will learn it next week."

The Chinese boy returned the note to the staff, and smiled honestly:
"I will recite the following, do you want to listen?"

After finishing speaking, he continued to recite like Chaodouzi.

The white lawyer almost didn't find a place to bury himself.

He brought the news back to Scott who was looking at his nose at his private doctor.

"What? They can speak English? Hey, take it easy!"

The old man was sitting on a chair, and the doctor next to him was cleaning his nasal cavity.

"Then just increase the difficulty!" The fat councilor beside him said indifferently.

"They have Chinese workers who can recite the Declaration of Independence." The lawyer hung his head, "Chen Jianqiu taught them."

Boom!

The plate next to the doctor was knocked over to the floor.

Scott's nose hurts again.

"It seems that there is no way to increase the difficulty. If we increase the difficulty, our voters will not be able to vote." The fat congressman subconsciously touched his nose.

After all, about 10% of white people are illiterate.

What's more, he couldn't recite the "Declaration of Independence".

Holding the table with his hands, the old man waited for a while before speaking.

He gritted his teeth and said:

"Then use the old method!"

(End of this chapter)