One pair of black cat's eyes three kandareems of silver.

The fish here, as at Hongkong, are almost always kept alive in large
tubs of water, with a fountain playing over them. They even keep some
sea-fish alive in salt water. But it is in the north of China that
they excel in rearing fish in large quantities. At Foo-chow cormorant
fishing may be seen to great perfection, and it is said to be a very
amusing sight.

At last the city gates were reached, and we once more found ourselves
outside the walls, and able to breathe again. Here a halt was made,
and several of the party got out of their chairs and walked, and we
were able to chat, whilst we wended our way by a narrow path through
nursery gardens and graveyards. In fact the whole of the White Cloud
Mountain is one vast cemetery--it is the Chinese Holy of Holies,
whither their bodies are sent, not only from all parts of China, but
from all parts of the world. Frequently a shipload of 1,500 or 1,600
bodies arrives in one day. The Steamboat Company charges 40 dollars
for the passage of a really live Chinaman, as against 160 dollars for
the carriage of a dead celestial. The friends of the deceased often
keep the bodies in coffins above ground for several years, until the
priests announce that they have discovered a lucky day and a lucky
spot for the interment. This does not generally happen until he--the
priest--finds he can extract no more money by divination, and that no
more funeral feasts will be given by the friends. We passed through
what they call the city of the dead, where thousands of coffins
waiting for interment were lying above ground. The coffins are large
and massive, but very plain, resembling the hollowed-out trunk of a
tree. The greatest compliment a Chinese can pay his older relatives is
to make them a present of four handsome longevity boards for their
coffins. Outside the city of the dead were the usual adjuncts of a
large burying-place--coffin-makers and stone-carvers, all living in
dirty little cottages, surrounded by pigs, ducks, and young children.

Leaving the cemetery and cottages behind, a too short drive brought us
to a lovely valley, where we were to lunch at the temple of San Chew,
in one of its fairest gorges. The meal was spread in a large hall in a
most luxurious manner, and as the wind changed almost immediately, and
it came on to rain, we felt ourselves fortunate indeed in having
reached shelter. We had plenty of wraps, an