It was on a pretty sad day when ihe homeless from Nantao were pouring into the Concession. One small family, plus bed and bedding, and pots and pans, halted in front of a first-class foreign dress salon. The grandmother of the party put down her bundles to gaze in wonder at the foreign dress designs calculate ed to glamourize our women during 1he coming social season. She pointed first to one "atrocity" and then another and nearly roared her ribs cut. The smart dummies, with hats
1 perched at fashionable angles made ihe tears run down the old dame's cheeks, though.one noted that she herself was wearing a style which was popular among her nationals some 2,000 years ago. But, she was amused! Then she lumed and saw me, and evidently my Mr. Tuck Shing's best and latest effort aroused further merriment in her breast.
She made me feel exactly like Belchers lady who appeared at Ascot resplendent in a tussore coat which She had purchased from a neighbour for a guinea, her best at with grapes in, and, in spite of, ti fat, felt she "were just nowhere."
Well, more power to our old refugee. If she has gone through all her troubles and can still find something in life to be amused about, she has a lot to be thankful for.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.