gain after we had passed.

'Our next adventure was in a river. The leading mule sank in a
quicksand. The carter, shoes and all, jumped into the water; in a
few seconds I had stripped all but a cinglet and pants, and was in
the river too. We got out after a little while.

'Next day we stuck in a quagmire. We hitched the mules to the tail
of the cart, pulled it out, then dug a new road in the side of the
ravine and got past.

'The third day we upset our cart in a very muddy place early in the
morning, and got caught in a thunder-shower in the afternoon. The
fourth day we stuck in a mud-hole half a mile from the end of our
journey, and when we got to our inn found our rooms in possession
of a crowd of people doing a wedding.

'One thing made the journey very pleasant: it was this. Just as we
were starting, one of the Christians, a Chinese farmer, but a man
who is poor and dresses and eats very poorly, came and gave me two
tiao, about 3_s._ 2_d._, to give to God. I was so glad to see him
do it, and no doubt God was glad too. Then at the end of the
journey, when we were stuck in the mud-hole and could not get out,
up came one of the Christians, took off his stockings and shoes,
went into the mud and helped us out. The country was very beautiful
all the way--just at its best.'

In a letter to another correspondent he depicts what is involved in
Chinese travelling during the wet season:--

'The last thing we had to do was to make a journey of eighty miles.
You would soon do that in England. Here, in August, it is no easy
matter. It is just the time when, on account of the rains, no one
should travel, and no one does travel who can help it. Carts would
not go. I had to find my way home from a cart inn the night before
we started along a newly rained-on muddy Chinese street in the
dark. Next day I had much brightness shed on the journey by one of
the Chinese Christians--a poor man with, oh, so poor a
coat--giving a donation to print Christian books. It amounted to
about $1.00 (one dollar) in all, but it meant a lot of self-denial
to him; and as I passed, a little later, the drought-parched
district where he lived, and looked at the poor fields, I wondered
where he got the money. I suppose God gave him the heart to give
it. Starting a journey with such