saying anything, while Callery was explaining to the spectators, in the coolest manner possible, that he had surprised the individual in question faisant le mouchoir.[1] The Chinese applauded the explanation, and the column resumed its course. Thus, at the very first steps I took in a large Chinese city, I was able to vouch for the presence of that representative of a very advanced stage of civilisation, the pickpocket; that decent thief who despises violence, and exercises his calling prudently, without noise, without disturbance, and without ever employing brute force.
This was not, however, the first time I had been in the presence of these professionals of the Celestial Empire; and before proceeding further I will relate a little story for the benefit of those among my readers who may make a voyage to China at some future period.
One day, at Macao, I was walking back with Callery to his residence. While going along, he was speaking in an animated manner, and had got a magnificent parasol under his arm. Passing the corner of a street, near the bazaar, my friend stopped to indulge in a demonstration, after the fashion of the natives of southern climates, who paint at the same time that they describe a subject. He had scarcely commenced his explanation, how-
- ↑ Equivalent to the English slang phrase, faking a cly.
