the fashionable fad among
them is to pad out their stomachs in token of the possession of
extraordinary courage, the stomach being regarded by the Chinese as the
seat of both courage and intelligence. In the absence of large stomachs
provided by nature, perhaps these proud Manchus come to the correction of
niggardly nature with wadding, as do various hollow-chested people in the
"regions of mist and snow," the dreary, sunless land whence cometh the
genus Fankwae.

But are the females also ambitious to be regarded as warriors, Amazonian
soldiers, full of courage and warlike aspirations. As though in direct
reply to my mental queries, a woman standing by solves the problem for me
at once by producing from beneath her garments a wicker-basket containing
a jar of hot ashes; stirring the deadened coals up a little she replaces
it, evidently attaching it to her garments underneath by a little hook.

Among the hundreds of visitors that drop in to see the Fankwae and his
bicycle is an intelligent old officer who actually knows that the great
country of the Fankwaes is divided into different nationalities; either
that, or else he thinks the Fankwaes have another name, said name being
"Ying-yun" (English). Some idea of the dense ignorance of the Chinese of
the interior concerning the rest of the world may be gathered from the
fact that this officer is the first person since leaving Chao-choo-foo,
upon whom the word "Ying-yun" has not been wholly thrown away.

Scenes of more than democratic equality and fraternity are witnessed in
this Manchu hittim, where silk-robed mandarins and uncouth ragamuffins
stand side by side and enjoy the luxury of seeing me take lessons in the
use of the chop-sticks. All through China one cannot fail to be impressed
with the freedom of intercourse between people of high and low degree;
beggars with unwashed faces and disgusting sores and well-nigh naked
bodies stand and discuss my appearance and movements with mandarins of
high degree, without the least show of presumption on the one hand or
condescension on the other.

Fully under the impression that Ki-ngan-foo has now peacefully come and
peacefully gone from the pale of my experiences, I follow along awful
stone paths next morning, leading across a level, cultivated country for
several miles. Before long, however, a country of red clay hills and
limited cultivable depressions is reached, where well-worn foot-trails
over the natural soil afford m