sh paper naively
remarks: "We do not like to see Germans free to wander about our
streets at will." Which is well enough in its way, although it must be
galling to the Chinese to have outsiders refer to the streets of China
as "ours." Americans would resent such a remark made by a foreigner
concerning the streets of New York.

If only the European nations had been as decent to China as America has
been! Then, in this crisis, China would have turned to them, been guided
by them, with the same trust that she places in America. As it is, she
distrusts all Europe to the core.

And over all this whirling dust of rumor and gossip, hatred and ill
feeling, there has been raging for the past three days a physical
dust-storm of tremendous intensity. The yellow, overhead kind, sifting
downward in clouds of powder, and covering everything, inside and out.
The China-boys about the hotel tell us with superstitious awe that when
a dust-storm lasts more than three days it is "bad joss." Such a storm,
of a week's duration, preceded the outbreak of the Chinese-Japanese
War. Every one feels uneasy, the whole atmosphere is full of
depression, tension, and suspense. One can't think or talk of anything
but this impending disaster.

This afternoon we went out for a while to forget it, if we could. We
went to the Lung Fu-Ssu, a sort of rag-fair held every ten days in the
grounds of an old temple in the East City. It's a wonderful fair,
usually, with booths and stalls stretching in every direction, and
spreading all over the ground, underfoot as well. Everything is sold at
this bazaar, everything made in China or ever made in China, to-day or
in the remote past,--porcelain, bronzes, jade, lacquer, silks,
clothing, toys, fruits, food, curios, dogs and cats. Three times a
month everything of every description finds its way to the Lung
Fu-Ssu, and three times a month all foreign Peking, to say nothing of
native Peking, finds its way to the temple grounds to look for
bargains. To-day, however, it wasn't much fun: neither the native city
nor the legation quarter were out in force, for the dust was too
thick, the air too cold.

Indefatigable bargain-hunters as we were, we could not stay long; but I
don't believe it was because of the overwhelming dust: it was just sheer
nervous anxiety to get back to the hotel for the latest news. We are all
restless and anxious, and withal feel ourselves so utterly impotent to
avert this impending calamity. The