There is another dust cloud—this time chased by a swiftly driven automobile carrying an official coming from a visit to the Foreign Office. Perhaps he has only been there for a chat and a cup of tea with a friend, for to-day is the Anniversary of the Republic and the whole country is celebrating 11 years of anarchy and misrule. There are no signs of the sackcloth
gay and everybody happy; Red and ashes eS ree is lanterns line the eud" "for the illuminations to-night, and crowds of visitors have been thronging the grounds of the President's palace.
I suppose that procession of long-gowned men has something to do with the great event. They are marching two and two, headed by a couple of national flags with a curious device in one corner. The stream of mule carts, ricshas, horses, bicycles and donkeys are dodging to the right: and left. Everybody rides in ricshas here—they are so cheap. For a short distance you cam go for one cent, and that on wheels with rubber tyres. There is a shop assistant seated in one, and on his lap reposes a whole pig, slaughtered and dressed. Rumour even has it that the beggars drive to their "beats," when they are tired, taking their ease and smoking cigarettes, but of course you can't believe everything you hear. The beggars are a nuisance, and they are following me in my ricsha with pitiful tales of empty stomachs. No one can have an empty stomach in this dust, and besides didn't the gentry offer them 50 cents a day on condition that they changed their occupation, and the offer was refused as not being good enough!
Some of the meaner shanties an small shops in Hatamen street have been pulled down and quite large, if not imposing, buildings have taken their place. There is the Lockhart Building, the original of the now famous Union Medical College. The Pre-Medical School is housed here and contains an excellent general library and reading room where strangers are made welcome. Further on, on the same side, is the red brick building of the Chinese Y. M. C. A. Here the Union Church congregation meets temporarily every Sunday afternoon, until they can raise enough money for a building of their own.
At this point there is a funeral procession. A massive coffin covered by an embroidered cloth, very brilliant. The pall-bearers are a set of dirty looking ruffians arrayed in bright gowns with red tassels in their hats. These are provided by the undertaker. The wedding processions you see are still more gay with colour. On the South they have not the same eye for effect, and allow coolies in their filthy rage to carry the wedding presents and offerings.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.