"We will traverse," he said, "Old China Street, go down Chap-tam-hong-kiaï, or the street of the Thirteen Factories, and, thence, visit some of the shops in Ta-teong-kiaï, or Physic Street, as the
English say; so prepare to set out."
On the previous evening we had merely gone through the hongs and the two passages I have described. We embarked at the foot of the stairs of our charming house of Thè-ki-Han, the last step of which is constantly washed by the Tchou-kiang. Two charming tanka girls, A-Moun and A-Fay, made their egg-shell glide over the calm water, and put us out at the landing-place which precedes Old China Street. While going along this silent passage, I said to Callery:—
"Canton is decidedly mournful; the bazaar of Macao is dirty, stinking, and filthy, but there is life about it. This passage, so straight and so correct, is enough to give any one the horrors. I believe the Chinese people is an amphibious people; it only lives well on the water. What a charming view I enjoy, from my room, over the Tchou-kiang!"
"That is, indeed, the effect Canton produces upon me," said Callery, with indifference.
We continued our journey.
We came out on a sort of market, the aspect of which agreeably surprised me; it was a very little fish market. In large tubs were swimming enor-
