The syring monsoon has begun to blow. Sometimes he is gentle in his coming, laden with sweet smells from flowering beans and mustard, a companion for children, whose radiant faces he kisses with his soft breath. When after days of scorching sun the light air flies upward he will come from the distant north, that land of Cimmerian darkness. that terra incognita—gloomy as all who haven't been there know full well—and will darken this sunny land while desert-dust drops from. his wings. Dire and formidable is he then. no companion for children or maids—a. trial to everybody.
And to lie awake at night dwing passing hours, passive and enduring while he fills all life with his fury is an agony. He comes overwhelmingly, an ocean of sound, and be-labours the ears with his mountainous waves, voluminous and terrible. till the spirit cowers appalled ay his empyrean raging. So do wasteful waters appel the grosser senses. His pauses are almost as_tertific as his onset. His cessation. is eerie, while overstrained timbers groan back to normal and a sustained creak from all directions marks his ebb like the seething of the sea over a shingled shore.
No Awatocy ix Povitics, The house is silent for a moment while he rages in the distance, but anon he comes with vast and congregated might, an angel of wrath and clamour from whom is no escape.
He huns himself bodily at the hapless house till it seems that the whole building must collapse before his impetuous fury. Thus he came on the first of March, true to time and changed days of summer warmth to winter cold. In a. day or two doubtless he will recover his temper.
If only it seemed possible to hope for a respite from the blasts of politics] tim oil, Last night every soldier who owns Liu Tsen-hou fled, and the city is left ready for Liu Hsiang to come and take possession. All the morning the gates were shut, but this afternoon they were opened, Liu Tsen-hov_has fled I am told, and Hsiong K'ebwu is on top once more. There is a lull. The monsoon? We know him and what to expect to a large extent; but as Yor politics or the want of them—"thou const not telt what a day will bring forth."
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.