n of the Min and the
Yangtse. But how changed was the Great River since I crossed it at
Lung-kai, four hundred miles to the west. There it dashed furiously
along, dammed in between precipitous cliffs and fretted to foam by rocky
reefs. Now it flowed broad and deep and quiet between soft wooded banks,
bearing many craft on its strong current.

The streets of the prosperous city of Suifu, the starting-point of all
overland traffic to Yunnan, are broad and attractive, and there was a
great display of fruit and vegetables in the open shops, but it needs
much faith in the cleansing power of boiling to overlook the sights of
the river front where vegetables and feet are washed side by side, while
as to the fruit, that had been gathered green, as is so often the case
in China, why I could not learn. Some said the Chinese preferred it so,
others that if it were kept on the trees it would be stolen long before
it ripened. But to tell the truth, the goodness of Chinese fruit seems
to be all on the outside. I never saw finer-looking peaches than in
Szechuan, but they proved worm-riddled and tasteless. Apparently all
that the Chinese can teach themselves has been learned, in
fruit-growing as well as in other things. Now if they are to advance
they must begin to borrow, and much else besides money. I was glad to
learn that one of the American missionaries at Ya-chou is in close touch
with the Department of Agriculture at Washington on a basis of give and
take that ought to be to the advantage of both sides.

We covered the distance of nearly two hundred miles between Suifu and
Chung-king in good time; the weather was favourable, and the river now
ran so high that the troublesome rapids had disappeared. The scenery was
charming as ever, but I was wearying of inactivity and it was a relief
to see the crenellated walls of Chung-king come in sight. I paid off my
boatmen, who had lived up to their agreement (not written this time) in
every particular, and in an hour I had ferried across the river and
found myself once more being carried over the steep hills that here form
the south shore of the Yangtse, to meet a kind welcome from the friends
of friends to their charming summer refuge high above the depressing
heat of the Yangtse valley.

Chung-king, which has been dubbed the Chicago of West China,--Hankow
claims the name in East China,--is one of a trio of cities that cluster
around the junction of the Chia-ting and the Yangtse, and i