coloured wax. The chandler deals in puffs ;
and what an un-English appeal is this from the
candle-maker on behalf of his wares—"Late
at night in the snow gallery they study the
books." Study the books! Yes ; through the
crowd of Chinese, in their picturesque familiar
dresses, look at that man, with books upon a
tray, who dives into house after house. He
lends books on hire to the poor people and
servants. Who is the puffer here? "We
issue and sell Hang Chow tobacco, the name
and fame of which has gallopped to the north
of Kechow; and the flavour has pervaded
Keangnan in the south." Here we have
"Famous teas from every province;" and you
see boiling water handy in the shop, wherewith
the customer may test his purchases. Here,
on the other side of this triumphal arch, we
peep through a gateway hung with lanterns
into a small paved paradise with gold fish,
(China is the home of gold fish), and exotics,
and trellis-work, and vines, and singing birds;
that is a mercer's shop, affecting style in
China as in England, only in another way.
We will walk through the paradise into a
grand apartment hung with lanterns, decorated
also with gilded tickets, inscribed "Pekin
satins and Canton crapes," "Hang-chow
reeled silks," and so on. Here a courtly
Chinese, skilled in the lubrication of a customer,
produces the rich heavy silks for which his
country is renowned, the velvets or the satins
you desire, and shaves you skilfully. Talking
of shaving, and we run against a barber as we
come out of the silk shop. He carries a fire
on his head, with water always boiling; on a
pole over his shoulder he balances his water,
basin, towels, razors. Will you be shaved like
a Chinese? he picks you out a reasonably quiet
doorway, shaves your head, cleans your ears,
tickles your eyes, and cracks your joints in a
twinkling. Where heads are shaved, the
wipings of the razors are extensive ; they are
all bought up, and employed as manure. The
Chinese have so many mouths to feed, that
they can afford to lose nothing that will
fertilise the ground. Instead of writing on
their walls "Commit no nuisance," they place
jars, and invite or even pay the pilgrim.

The long tail that the barber leaves is to
the Chinese his sign of manhood. Beards do
not form a feature of Mongolian faces ; a few
stray coarse hairs are all they get, with their
square face, high cheekbones, slanting eyes,
and long dark hair upon the head. A plump
body, long ears, and a long tail are the
respectabilities of a Chinese. The tail is
magnified by working in false hair, and it
generally ends with silk. There is a man
using his tail to thrash a pig along; and one
traveller records that he has seen a Chinese
servant use the same instrument for polishing
a table. It is, of course, the thing to pull at
in a street fight. Here is a phrenologist,
with a large figure of a human head mapped
into regions, inviting Chinese bumpkins to
submit to him their bumps. Here is a dentist
showing his teeth. Here—we must stop here
—with a gong for drum, but raised on the
true pedestal, with a man inside, who knows
the veritable squeak, are Punch and Judy, all
alive. This is their native land. "Pun-tse,"
the Chinese call our friend, because he is a
little puppet, after all—Puntse meaning,
in Chinese, "the son of an inch." Here is
the very Chinese bridge that we have learned
by heart along with the pagoda, from a
willow-patterned soup-plate: steps up, steps
down, and a set of Chinese lanterns. Here
is a temple, flaming with red paint. Let
us go in. Images, votive candles burning
on an altar, and a woman on her face wrestling
in prayer. After praying in a sort
of agony for a few minutes, she has stopped
to take a bit of stick, round on one side, for
she purposes therewith to toss up and see
whether her prayer is granted. Tails! She
loses! She is wrestling on her knees again,
—praying, doubtless, for a "bull child."
Girls are undesirable, because they are of no
use except for what they fetch in marriage
gifts, and to fetch much they must be good-
looking. Poor woman—tails again! Never
mind, she must persevere, and she will get
heads presently. Here comes a grave man,
who prays for half a minute, and pulls out
one from a jar of scrolls. Having examined
it, he takes one of the little books that hang
against the wall, looks happy, and departs.
He has been drawing lots to see whether
the issue of some undertaking will be
fortunate. Poor woman—tails again! We
cannot stop for the result; but I have no
doubt that if she persevere she will get heads
up presently. Here is a man in the street
with a whole bamboo kitchen on his head,
nine feet long, by six broad, uttering all
manner of good things. The poor fellow who
drove the pig stops in the street to dine.
What a Soyer that fellow is, with his herbs,
and his peppers, and his magic stove, and
what a magnificent stew he gives the pig-driver!
Do you know, I doubt whether the
Chinese are fools. What place have we here
steaming like a boiler ? This, sir, is one of the
public bath establishments, where a warm
bath, towels, and a dressing-closet are at the
service of the pig-driver after his dinner, for
five le—less than a farthing. There, too, his
wife may go and obtain boiling water for the
day's tea, which is to that poor Chinaman his
beer, and pay for it but a single le. It would
cost far more to boil it for herself; fuel is
dear, and except for cooking or for manufactures,
is not used in China. There are neither
grates nor stoves in any Chinese parlour. The
continent of Asia, and with it China, has a
climate of extremes, great summer heat and
an excessive winter cold; so that even at
Canton, within the tropic, snow falls. But
the Chinaman warms not his toes at a fire;
he accommodates his comfortable costume to
the climate; puts on more clothes as the cold
makes itself felt, and takes some off again if