The day the battle ceased, one tthe bolder spirits among the women ventured out and made her way round the city to the North Gate, She came back weeping. bitterly. The sights and smells were beyond description—everywhere w>- men wailing over their dead. Outside the North Gate piles of dend bodies awaiting burial while the hot sun poured down upon the dreadful scene, Houses have been burnt to the ground. Old feeble women were tottering along trying to carry a LHe water from the tiver—"There no one left to do it for me," gasped one old white-haired granny 25, "They have Killed my husband and they have killed my son, and I only am left, 'To-day Nanning is turned into a! city of mourning and as one looks the wounded, the dying and the ead, one can only "To what purpose it this waste?" Nothing has been gained, nothing accomplished, it is the same old story year after' year—anguish and suffering for the many in order that the few may grow rich on the fat opium revenues and build comfort able houses in some safe port and Jive in luxury to the end of th Gays. It is a serious question—how, Jong will the masses be willing suffer thus passively at the hands of rival military chieftains?
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.