If you ask Foo why he did not leave like the rest of the Chinese population he will answer that the little house, now reduced to one storey, was his home and that he had the alleyway to look after. He is still the watchman in that terrace although there is certainly nothing to watch. Indeed one has to be a bit of a mountain goat to get to old Foo's doorstep—front or back—so high are the bricks piled on all sides. And once inside the place, you feel as if the celling might come down at any time or the front cave in. But Foo will not shift to one of the safer houses in the next terrace. It would look bad indeed if the people returned and found the watchman in possession!
On what did he and his rosy-faced little daughter subsist during the time when the fighting closed all shops and prevented movements of food? He admits that, after their small private stock of provisions had given out, he went "foraging" in the neighbourhood and appropriated small stocks of rice from abandoned shops. This he and his daughter at raw as they were afraid to start fires for cooking. Rain-water augmented their supply of sweet water.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.