ke. As we crossed the
river, the bridge of boats so creaked and swayed beneath the rushing
rabble, that we were glad to stand once more upon the terra firma of the
city streets, which were here paved with granite and marble blocks. As we
rode down the principal thoroughfare, amid the usual din and uproar, a
well-dressed Chinaman rushed out from one of the stores and grabbed us by
the arm. "Do you speak English?" he shouted, with an accent so like an
American, that we leaped from our wheels at once, and grasped his hand as
that of a fellow countryman. This, in fact, he proved to be in everything
but birth. He was one of that party of mandarins' sons which had been sent
over to our country some years ago, as an experiment by the Chinese
government, to receive a thorough American training. We cannot here give
the history of that experiment, as Mr. Woo related it--how they were
subsequently accused of cutting off their queues and becoming
denationalized; how, in consequence, they were recalled to their native
land, and degraded rather than elevated, both by the people and the
government, because they were foreign in their sentiments and habits; and
how, at last, they gradually began to force recognition through the power
of merit alone. He had now been sent out by the government to engineer the
extension of the telegraph-line from Su-chou to Urumtsi, for it was feared
by the government that the employment of a foreigner in this capacity
would only increase the power for evil which the natives already
attributed to this foreign innovation. The similarity in the phrases,
_telegraph pole_ and _dry heaven_, had inspired the common belief that the
line of poles then stretching across the country was responsible for the
long-existing drought. In one night several miles of poles were sawed
short off, by the secret order of a banded conspiracy. After several
decapitations, the poles were now being restored, and labeled with the
words, "Put up by order of the Emperor."

[Illustration: TWO PAGODAS AT LAN-CHOU-FOO.]

In company with the English missionary, Mr. Redfern, while attempting to
get out of the city on the way to his mountain home, we were caught in
another jam. He counseled us to conceal the weapons we were carrying in
our belts, for fear the sight of them should incite the mob to some act of
violence. Our own experience, however, had taught us that a revolver in
China was worth nothing if not shown. For persistence, this