Both here and at Weihsien we were struck with what we heard of the village girls’ mission schools, showing the stability of character and also the capacity of Chinese girls. When a village wishes to establish a school, its inhabitants ask some mission to supply a teacher, and they make themselves responsible for the rest. The girl teacher is probably lodged in the home of the village elder, and he makes arrangements for the schoolroom, &c., and acts as guardian to the teacher. She organizes work, and has entire control as long as she manages it properly. About twice a year a missionary goes to inspect it and examine the scholars. We felt it would be interesting to see one of these schools, so our hostess offered to arrange the matter, and took us one day to the village of Wang Mu Chiang Chwang, some ten miles distant, which she was intending to visit for the purpose of inspection.

CHAPTER III
A Day in the Country (Shantung)

Days in early October are perfect for visiting the country. The thermometer stands at 70° to 80°. We set out one clear, fresh morning at about eight o’clock. I went in a sedan-chair, and the two others in a wheelbarrow—not such an uncomfortable conveyance as might be supposed, except when the roads are very rough. The occupants recline on each side of the wheel, and parallel to it, in a padded seat with back rests and cushions, their feet extended full length in front; the barrow is wheeled from behind, and has a man harnessed like a beast in front. As this was a heavy barrow there were two additional men pulling, one on each side of it. The sedan-chair travelled quicker than the barrow, and had the advantage of taking short cuts across the fields. It was carried by four men, two in front and two behind; the front ones carried by means of a pole, to which the shafts were suspended—which ran parallel to them—while the carriers at the back were in the shafts themselves. When the men wished to shift the weight from one shoulder to the other, they supported the pole by means of an upright one which they carry for the purpose. Owing to these arrangements the chair can be equally well carried by three men as by four, two in front and one behind, in which case the back carrier is much farther from the chair than the front men.

I was soon well ahead, and did not witness the catastrophe that happened to the barrow shortly after starting. Going round a corner rather too fast, the barrow was upset, and one of my friends was tipped out into the dust; but the other, on the upper side, managed to hold on. Happily, no damage was done, as the fall was into a soft, clean heap of dust. But it was not so pleasant a matter for another friend to whom this happened when she was travelling the same road earlier in the year. She was tipped over into a sea of mud, and as she happened to be carrying a basket full of eggs, she suddenly found herself in a “Yellow Sea.”

Leaving the city behind us, we passed through open country where every one was still busy harvesting in the fields. Some fields were already ploughed, in others green wheat stood a few inches high; it would not be much higher before the snow came to cover it for winter. Much of the foliage looked more like spring green than autumn, and many of the villages lay embowered in trees—willows, aspens, cryptomerias, the last-named always belonging to temples or adjoining graves. The threshing-floors were filled with golden grain being prepared for winter storage. Bean pods were being broken up by means of stone rollers, worked by donkeys, blindfolded with neat straw goggles. On one occasion I saw a donkey wearing a pair of ornate blinkers, bright blue cotton with protuberant black eyes surrounded by a white line. The Chinese love to decorate the things in common use, and it is a perpetual joy to see the skill and ingenuity expended on simple objects. After the bean pods have been crushed the different parts of the plant are raked into separate heaps on the threshing floor—bean, husk, stalk, and chaff—for every particle is used in one way or other. If one were asked to state what was the most striking feature of this great empire, I almost think it would be this: the carefulness which prevents waste, the ingenuity which finds a use for everything. Even the green weed covering the ponds is used as fodder for pigs. When the fields look quite empty after harvest, the women and girls gather together the few remaining straws. Every inch of ground is cultivated, except the endless mounds, the graves of countless generations.

The country was a scene of delightfully cheerful energy, whole families working together; a tiny child lying naked, basking in the sun, the women (despite their bound feet) as busy as the men. Barrows passed along, groaning under loads so heavy that it needed a friend to drag in front, while at the end of some five yards of traces a donkey trotted along, waiting to give its assistance till it was more urgently needed, as, for instance, going uphill or over difficult ground. The reins were attached to each side of the barrow, and could only be manipulated by a dexterous twist of the wrists. Occasionally a man rode by on a pony, whose coming was heralded by a tinkling of bells. As the country is covered with crops, not many cattle are to be seen, and any there may be are mainly fed on bean cakes. We were swiftly borne through village after village, and my men only set me down for one ten minutes’ rest during the ten miles, which we covered in two hours and forty minutes.

As we entered Wang Chia Chuang (Wang = family village), the whole community, headed by the Wang family, turned out to meet us, having been warned the day previous of our intended arrival, and we were ceremoniously led to the Guest Chamber. On the outside of the entrance to the house little strips of red or orange paper were pasted up, and in the inner courtyards as well. On these papers are sayings from the writings of Confucius, or other mottoes, such as the following:

When you sit quietly, think of your own fault;

When you chat together, mention not another man’s.

In teaching children, good must be taught;