Chekiang is rich in natural treasures of hills and rivers and, in the sweet of the year, it is a royal land of flowers. Almost everywhere, "Hills green: flowers burn red," the earth is, Sad, and the fields and woods re: voice, A trip through the valleys loriens experience. Here, in these surroundings, one gets a close acquaintance with the simple hearted men and women of the sell whose deep desire is in the work of their How Intent they are upon "the great little things" which make up their day, and yet how free from the jolting and babbling distractions of the despairing civilization of the West, Some of these farmers are born' naturalists, lovers of garden fore, and know all about the mountains from the cedar to the shrub.
Bounteous harvests are the rule in this province, but, notwithstanding these years of plenty, the farming lass find themselves" without any fluid capital. For decades the general complaint has been, "Rice is too dear," and now, in these latter years, the producers mournful wail is, "Rice is too cheap." There is no market for produce, and this peculiar Situation hes a serious reaction, especially' upon the shopkeeper, "who Tongs for the cloud of depression to itt
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.