but very few cattle; I have also yet to
see the first horse. Instead of herbivorous quadrupeds peacefully
browsing, are swarms of men, women, and children cutting, bundling, and
stacking the grass for the manufacture of paper.

Among the fleeting curiosities of the day are a crowd of sampans flying
black flags, evidently some military expedition; they are bound down
stream, and it occurs to me that they are perhaps a reinforcement of
these famous free-lances going to join the hordes of that denomination
making things so uncomfortable for the French in Tonquin and Quang-tse.
We also pass a district where the women enhance their physical charms by
the aid of broad circular hats that resemble an inverted sieve. The
edges, however, are not wood, but circular curtains of black calico; the
roof of the hat is bleached bamboo chip.

Officers board us in the evening to search the vessel for dutiable goods;
but they find nothing. The privilege of levying customs on salt and opium
is farmed out by the government to people in various cities along the
rivers. The tax on these articles from first to last of a long river
voyage is very heavy, customs being levied at various points; it is
scarcely necessary to add that under these arbitrary arrangements, the
oily, conscienceless and tsin-loving Celestial boatman has reduced the
noble art of smuggling to a science. Yung Po smiles blandly at the
officer as he searches carefully every nook and corner of the sampan,
even rooting about with a stick in the moderate amount of bilge-water
collected between the ribs, and when he is through, dismisses him with an
air of innocence and a wealth of politeness that is artfully calculated
to secure less rigorous search next time.

The poling and towing is prolonged till nearly midnight, when we cast
anchor among a lot of house-boats and miscellaneous craft before a city.
Even at this unseemly hour we are visited by an owlish pedler, whose boat
is fitted up with boxes containing various dishes toothsome to the
heathen palates of the water-men. Yung Po and Ah Sum look wistfully over
the ancient pastry-ped-ler's wares, and pick out tiny dishes of sweetened
rice gruel; this they consume with the same unutterable satisfaction that
hungry monkeys display when eating chestnuts, ending the performance by
licking the platters. Although the price is nearly a farthing a dish,
with wanton prodigality Yung Po orders dishes for the whole company,
including even