resting face attached himself to us, and
presently I found myself and my belongings the subject of an explanatory
talk he was giving the bystanders. He told them how I kept my eyeglasses
on, expatiated on the advantages of my shoes, indicated the good points
of my chair, the like of which had never been seen before in these
parts, and finally expounded at length the character of my dog. If I
wished him to be bad he would bite, but since I was kind I would desire
him to be good, and he would be good. To illustrate, he patted Jack's
head rather gingerly. Fortunately the dog appreciated pats from any
quarter, so our characters did not suffer.

[Illustration: A ROADSIDE TEA-HOUSE]

[Illustration: TEA-COOLIE CROSSING A SUSPENSION BRIDGE

His load weighed about 160 lbs]

Toward the end of the day we were nearing Tien-chuean-chou, the one
largeish town on this road. The approach was one of the finest things I
have ever seen. We were now well down, having descended seven thousand
feet since crossing Ma-an-Shan. Everywhere there was careful
cultivation, the nearer hills being terraced to the top, and the
well-paved trail traversed long stretches of rice-fields just beginning
to show green above the mud. Here and there a group of farm buildings
stood on little knolls above the surrounding marsh, each in a charming
setting of trees. Do trees anywhere group themselves as picturesquely as
in China? Unsympathetic people tell me that no Chinese ever plant trees
save for severely utilitarian purposes. I am in no position to
contradict the verdict of these overpowering persons, the old residents
(fortunately they sometimes contradict each other); and yet why is it
that most temples are set in fine groves, put to no purpose that I can
see save to satisfy a sense of the beautiful, or why are so many Chinese
towns, looked at from a height, bowers of green beauty, the trees
serving neither for fuel nor for food? The truth is, it seems to me,
that the needs of life press so hard on the Chinese that they are forced
to look at things from a utilitarian point of view, but given the least
chance and their appreciation of the beautiful shows itself.

Near the town we struck down to a good iron suspension bridge over the
Ya, which here runs with a tremendous current, broken by curious reefs
thrusting out into the stream some twenty or thirty feet and at right
angles to the bank. Beyond the bridge we came in sight of the town, its
staring red