the soldiers have mutinied and joined the mob, maddened
with lust for blood and loot. I must tell you about it while I
can; for it is not every day one has the chance of seeing a fresh
and daring young Republic sally up to an all-powerful dynasty,
centuries old with tyranny and treasure, and say, "Now, you vamoose
the Golden Throne. It matters not where you go, but hustle; and I
don't want any back talk while you are doing it."

If I was n't so excited I might be nervous. But, Mate, when you
see a cruelly oppressed people winning their freedom with almost
nothing to back them hut plain grit, you want to sing, dance, pray
and shout all at the same time, and there is no mistake about young
China having a mortgage on all the surplus nerve of the country.
Of course, the mob, awful as it is, is simply an unavoidable
attachment of war.

All day there has been terrible fighting, and I am told the streets
are blocked with headless bodies and plunder that could not be
carried off.

The way the mob and the soldier-bandits got into the city is a
story that makes any tale of the Arabian Nights fade away into dull
myth.

Some years ago a Manchu official, high in command, espied a
beautiful flower-girl on the street and forthwith attached her as
his private property. So great was her fascination, the tables
were turned and he became the slave--till he grew tired. He not
only scorned her, but he deserted her. Though a Manchu maid, the
Revolution played into her tapering fingers the opportunity for the
sweetest revenge that ever tempted an almond-eyed beauty. It had
been the proud boast of her officer master that he could resist any
attacking party and hold the City Royal for the Manchus. Alas! he
reckoned without a woman. She knew a man outside the city walls--a
leader of an organization--half soldiery, half bandits--who
thirsted for the chance to pay off countless scores against
officers and private citizens inside. After a vain effort to win
back her lover, the flower-girl communicated with the captain of
the rebel band, who had only been deterred from entering the city
by a high wall twenty feet thick. She told him to be ready to come
in on a certain night--the gates would be open. The night came.
She slipped from doorway to doorway through the guarded streets
till she reached the appointed place. Even the sentries
unconsciously lent a hand to her plan, in leaving their posts and
seeking a tea-house fire by whic