Roasted pork, dried fish, and dried fowl were much in evidence in the shops; and for long distances wooden tubs containing water and live fish line a street. Butcher shops and vegetable stores are also seen at every turn. Garbage from each store or dwelling is placed in the street, and this is often kicked about before the garbage man takes it away. Hydrants are numerous, and lines of people wait their turn to get water. Wide boards, on which are written Chinese characters, often meet from each side, and a reed covering placed above, and extending across the street, drawn by ropes, shades people from the sun. Between the grunts, yawns, and songs of the laborers, together with the general conversation and the shouts from others at intruders on the dried fish and fowl, it is dampness, noise, stench and jam from the time one enters until he emerges outside the wall. In this large city there is no sewerage.

The street paving is composed of stones from two to three feet wide, and in length the width of the street. As there are neither horses nor wagons used in the city, most of the people in their bare feet, and, as the sandals worn by others have soft soles, the pavement lasts a long time, although some of the thick stones show signs of wear from the millions of feet passing over them. Between the broad signs, other signs printed on wide strips of canvas, together with the curtains that cover the thoroughfares above the cramped space, the streets of Canton resemble tunnels more than anything else.

The City of the Dead, a burying place in Canton, differed from any before seen. The coffins are logs, hewed out for a body, are of cylindrical shape, with four corners, and appear as if four pieces of lumber had been sealed together. The top quarter-piece is loose and serves as the lid. Some of these odd-appearing coffins are expensive, as they are heavily inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold leaf. The first resting-place consists of two rooms, and these are separated by a matting curtain. In the second, or inside, chamber the coffin rests on two supports as large as a washtub. In the outer, or reception chamber, stands a table with flowers, an incense-stick pot, and a glass containing oil, with a wick. The incense-stick was burning and the wick was casting a dim flame. Every morning and afternoon a fresh cup of tea is placed on the stand, together with fruit and fresh flowers. The light was kept burning so the spirit of the dead could find its way about, and, if it felt like eating, the food was ready. The corpse rests in that place for six months, when the remains are removed to a permanent burial ground and put under the earth. The temporary—or six months'—resting place rents for $10 a month, or $60 for the time allowed. Formerly the corpse remained in these lying-in-state, or ancestral halls, for years, but that has been changed to a six months' period. Only well-to-do Chinese are so laid to rest.

The wall encircling Canton is six miles round, but the city has outgrown the old lines. At one place, just inside the wall, is the old execution ground, where offenders against the law were beheaded, but it is now used as a pottery.

A hundred and twenty-four temples of the Confucius and Buddhist faiths were found here, but, when visiting some of these, the growing grass, dilapidated walks, dusty images, and general lack of care in evidence at every turn suggested that the Chinaman has broken loose from old religious moorings. In the Geneii Temple were 500 figures on one side of the building, badly in need of dusting. A very good pagoda, five stories high, is a feature of Canton. All the pagodas of China are of odd stories—three, five or seven.

The various manufacturing industries of the city are situated in one quarter. A big business is done in jadestone, mostly made into rings, and used as bracelets; but the stone is used also for other ornaments. The jadestone industry is situated in a certain district; furniture manufacturing is also centralized; the mother-of-pearl workers are located in still another section; this applies also to the ivory, damascene, jewelry, and tinware industries. Little or no machinery is used, most of the work being done by hand.

The city seemed to be free of loafers, everybody doing something. Talking with a Chinese acquaintance on this point, he stated that the only men out of work were gamblers, whose "occupation" had been taken from them by official decree. They had never learned to do anything else. The opium houses had also been closed. Not a queue was seen hanging down the back of the males one met, the cutting off of the pigtails being in compliance with a government edict. The hair from the queues was shipped to other countries.

"Sweating money" is a custom said to be much practiced in China. Gold coins are placed in a sheet or cloth, which is then vigorously shaken. The coins, clashing against each other, wear off the milling, which remains in the sheet. When the coins are "sweated" to the satisfaction of the "sweaters" the cloth is put in a kettle or retort, when the gold dust, or milling, remains at the bottom. It is owing to this "sweating" process that, when gold is required in transactions of fifty dollars and much greater sums, bankers often determine the value of the metal by weighing it rather than by accepting the coins at their face value.

Concerning the population of Canton, there seemed to be no official figures. Some give the number at a million, others at two millions, and even three millions of people are said to be residents of the metropolis of Southern China. Statements of the Pearl River population, however, seem to be authentic. Just think of half a million people living on the water! The river is partly blocked with native craft—sampans—and these are the homes of people numbering as many as comprise the city of Baltimore, Md. Each owner of a sampan pays a small license fee to the city; but they have no water rent to pay or house rent bills. The sampan is the home of a great many Chinese from birth until they die, generally at a ripe old age. The Pearl River is called the West River at Hongkong.

Missionaries living in the interior have enough bread baked at one baking to last them a month. The bread is sliced, then toasted, and taken to the mission. Toasting the bread keeps it from getting mouldy.