of them, several
hundred, all heavily laden, and moving in slow, majestic dignity at the
rate of two miles an hour! Coming in from some unknown region of the
great Mongolian plains, the method of transportation employed for
thousands of years! Yes, undoubtedly, China needs railways; but she
can't have any more at present, for she has no money to construct them
herself, and the great nations who claim seventy-nine per cent. of her
soil haven't time at present to build them for her. And they object to
letting America do it. A sphere of influence is a dog in the manger.

II

PEKING

Here we are in Peking at last, the beautiful, barbaric capital of China,
the great, gorgeous capital of Asia. For Peking is the capital of Asia,
of the whole Orient, the center of the stormy politics of the Far East.
We are established at the Grand Hotel des Wagons-Lits, called locally
the "Bed-Wagon Hotel," or, as the marines say, the "Wagon Slits." It is
the most interesting hotel in the world, too, where the nations of the
world meet, rub elbows, consult together, and plan to "do" one another
and China, too. It is entertaining to sit in the dark, shabby lounge and
watch the passers-by, or to dine in the big, shabby, gilded dining-room,
and see the various types gathered there, talking together over big
events, or over little events that have big consequences. Peking is not
a commercial city, not a business center; it is not filled with drummers
or traveling-men or small fry of that kind, such as you find in Shanghai
and lesser places. It is the diplomatic and political center of the
Orient, and here are the people who are at the top of things, no matter
how shady the things. At least it is the top man in the concern who is
here to promote its interests.

Here are the big concession-hunters of all nationalities, with
headquarters in the hotel, ready to sit tight for a period of weeks or
months or as long as it may take to wheedle or bribe or threaten the
Chinese Government into granting them what they wish--a railroad, a
bank, a mine, a treaty port. Over in a corner of the lounge sits a
so-called princess, a Chinese lady, very modern, very chic, very
European as to clothes, who was formerly one of the ladies-in-waiting
to the old empress dowager. And, by the way, it took a woman to hold
China together. Next to her sits a young Chinese gentleman, said to be
the grandson of one of the old prime ministers, a slim, dapper youth,
spec