As I walked the streets and breathed the air I became more and more cognizant of the presence of the great spirit of "squeeze" just as Kim had sensed it on that chilly afternoon two hundred years ago. It is truly the guardian deity of China.
Here was the Forbidden City open now to even the uncouth Foreignr. In the outer quarters weeds grow wild, steel rails lie flung about and heaps of brick deface ths tinted wall. Instead of grand Chamberlains moving by or the Buddha I find a knight of the alms-bowl sitting under the Bo Tree running carefully over the seams of his jacket looking for dropped stitches. Still this is the Forbidden City and what can equal it?
Through the side entrances back of the Noon-day Gate, over the marble bridge I go, all alone. Only the shadows of the past accompany me: airy elephants aceoutred for Kang-hsi_ to ride; silent banner-men and _lantern-bearers; shadowy chiefs and kings from afar. The lions before the T'ai-ho Men seemed to me to be shaking with laughter. "It's all a joke," they said "all a joke." Perblaps it is. Only the echo of my footsteps sound as I climb the marble steps to the T'ai-ho Tien. Here the guard was asleep, his head hanging loosely over the rear post of his chair. All is gone, I thought, the glory of the days of Yung-lu vanished into the past and the guard himself as good as dead. But what a magnificent hall none the less. The mind that conesived it; the soul that gave it express sion; the hands that fashioned it, when shall we see the like? To think that long grass- and weeds should be allowed to grow in such a place. One can imagine the howlings at night of the ghosts of all palace sweepers as they behold its dishevelment.
Again and again as long as my stay lasted I walked these silent courts up the steps and through the halls. What is there about it that so captivates the imagination?
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.