was troubled at all. Had a delightful time, too, and
met many interesting people. The dinner was in honor of the general in
charge of our army in the Philippines, and we also met Admiral von
Hinze, the German minister. The Dutch minister and his wife were there,
too. As America is neutral, it is necessary to entertain the various
diplomats as usual, but naturally they can't all dine at the legation on
the same evening. Sheep and goats, as it were, one dinner to the Allied
representatives, the next to the representatives of the Central powers.
Much nice sorting is required, and they tell us that in consequence of
the war Peking society is rift in twain. This is all very well when it
happens in a big community, but when it happens in such a limited little
society as Peking, all walled in together within the narrow inclosure of
the legation quarter,--walled in literally, also, in the fullest sense,
with soldiers from the guards of the various legations patrolling the
walls and mounting guard day and night,--such a situation results in
great tension and embarrassment all round. There was not one word of war
talk during the dinner; it was tacitly avoided, by common consent.

Well, as I said, after that dinner the other night, people began to be
very nice to us and to invite us out. The one safe subject for
discussion is Chinese politics, in which every one is interested and of
which every one knows a lot. At least, I don't know that they really
know, but they say they do, and speak as if they do, and become emphatic
if you doubt them, and altogether they dispense a wonderful lot of
news, whatever its value. Rumors! There was never in the world such a
place for rumors as Peking. We thought Paris was the hotbed of rumors
during the last two years of the war--Paris with its censored press,
suppressed speech, and general military rule, so that all one lives on
are the rumors that never get into the papers; but Peking is stupendous.
Here the rumors simply fly, and the corridors of the old Wagons-Lits
Hotel seems to be the pivotal spot of the whirlwind. Sooner or later
every one in Peking seems to drop into the hotel on some pretext or
other, as if it were a club, and the lounge is so thick with news and
rumor and gossip that you can lean up against them and not fall down.
All absolutely true, authentic, unquestionable, and to-morrow all
flatly contradicted by another set equally veracious, startling, and
imposing. Never mind. Who