Ningpo, March 11.
In passing through Pokwan (that is the way the Chinese Post Office romanizes the name), the present western terminus of the Ningpo-Hangchow railway, one is forcibly reminded of the fact that the so-called European War is, rather, a World War. As one stands on the temporary platform of the temporary station, which stands between rough, vertical walls of rock. in the cut on the brink of the Dzaongo river, he can sce things that remind of the power of man and of his powerlessness. Away across the low-lying plain, on the opposite side of the river. winds the newly-built grade; but there is no sign of an effort to put down the sleepers and the rails that will make it a real railroad. either side of the river, and in the centre of the stream, are the finished cement piers for the steel bridge that is to span this tide-washed waterway; while, from the western pier to the centre pier the trestle of wood stands ready for the work of erecting that half of the bridge. and the temporary workshops and other necessary arrangements for the handling of the bridge materials are in readiness for the finishing of the work; but not a soul is to be seen around the premises doing any sort of work connected with the building of the bridge.
Then, if one turns toward the left, and looks upward, one beholds on the hilltop above the station, the little house that shelters the chief engineer (of the German Company that has undertaken the building of the bridge), together ith his wife and bright little baby-boy and a German foreman. But, norated for
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.