River Floods: Rowing Through The Front Door: Ruined By The Opium Habit From Our Own Correspondent.
Nanning, Sept. 20.
It was dark and raining hard when the writer returned to this city after a protracted absence elsewhere. Everybody and everything looked exactly the same That night in the swaying lights of the hurricane lanterns. I got to bed but not to sleep. The street. was full of noises, including the horribly familiar sound of a woman groaning and weeping. I thought of all the remem dies I could give her which might help; but my opinion was not sought for. At last the sounds closed; sha apparently fell asleep worn out with exhaustion.
For days and nights the rain continued. When it pours in torrents it is difficult to sleep in peace in a house you have built yourself. The water seems to come through every crevice and the windows never shut properly.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.