ple who have been reared in the
lap of luxury, and tenderly nurtured; but neither of these half-clad
Kan-kiang navigators was born with the traditional silver spoon. From
infancy they have had to thrive the best way they could on rice,
turnip-tops, peanuts, and delusive expectations of pork and fish; their
assumption of the delicacies above mentioned betrays the possession of
bumps of assurance bigger than goose-eggs. It is equivalent to a
moneyless New York guttersnipe sailing airily into Delmonico's and
ordering porter-house steak and terrapin, because some benevolent person
volunteered to feed him for a day or two at his expense. Fearful lest
their ambitious palates should soar into the extravagant and bankrupting
realms of bird-nest soup, shark's fins, and deer-horn jelly, I firmly
resolve to dispense with their services at the first favorable
opportunity.

Many of the larger villages we pass through are walled with enormously
massive brick walls, all bearing evidence of battering at the hands of
the Tai-pings. Owing to the frequent restings of the carriers we are
overtaken toward evening by a fellow boat-passenger, Oolong, who after
our departure determined to follow our enterprising example and walk to
Kan-tchou-foo. He comes trudging briskly along with a little white
tea-pot swinging in his hand and an umbrella under his arm.

The day is disagreeably cold by reason of the chilly typhoons that blow
steadily from the north. I have considerately encased the thinnest clad
carrier in my gossamer rubbers to shield him from the wind, but Oolong is
even thinner clad than he, and he has to hustle along briskly to keep his
Celestial blood in circulation.

No sooner do we reach the hittim where it is proposed to remain over
night than poor Oolong gets into trouble by appropriating to his own use
the quilted garment of one of the employes of the place, which he finds
lying around loose. The irate owner of the garment loudly accuses Oolong
of wanting to steal it, and notwithstanding his vigorous protestations to
the contrary he is denounced as a thief and summarily ejected from the
premises.

The last I ever see of Oolong and his white tea-pot and umbrella is when
he pauses for a moment to give his accusers a bit of his mind before
vanishing into outer darkness.

The morning is quite wintry, and the people are clad in the seasonable
costumes of the country. Huge quilted garments are put on one over
another until their f