HOUSE BOATS AT CANTON.
The kowtow is still a part of the ceremonial greeting. If two officials are riding and meet, they dismount and bow their heads to the ground. In the schools the students kowtow before a Confucian tablet twice each month. When we visited the government school at Shanghai we noticed mats upon the floor of the otherwise empty assembly hall, and upon inquiry learned that at seven the next morning the students would perform the usual Confucian rites. These consist of a series of kowtows. At a given signal the students kneel on the mats and bow three times toward the tablet, their heads each time touching the floor; they then rise and after a short interval kneel again at a signal and bow three times more. This ceremony is again repeated, making nine bows in all. Then they kneel and bow three times to the professors; after saluting the professors each student bows once to the student next to him and the meeting adjourns. We thought it would be interesting to witness this service in honor of one who has received more formal reverence than any other mortal, and arising before it was light, we made the journey to the college, which is distant an hour's ride from the hotel. When we arrived we found that for some reason which we could not ascertain, the ceremony would not be performed. Whether the postponement was due to objection to the presence of foreigners (visitors had been present on former occasions) or to some other cause, was left in mystery.
Our morning ride, however, answered one purpose; as the road ran some distance by the side of a little stream, it enabled us to see something of houseboat life. Hundreds of little boats line the stream, and in their diminutive mat-covered cabins were housed thousands of natives, many of whom are born, live and die in these unstable homes. As they were preparing the morning meal we had a chance to confirm the stories regarding their want of cleanliness. It was not an uncommon thing to see a woman washing rice in the muddy water and a few feet away, another woman throwing refuse matter into the stream, or a man performing his morning ablutions. At Canton one has a still larger opportunity to observe houseboat life where the Pearl river furnishes the water supply and at the same time an open sewer for a floating population of many thousands.
The contrast between the bath-loving Japanese and the dirty, complacent Chinese laborer is very marked and this contrast is also noticeable in the streets. The sights and smells that greet the senses along the narrow streets of a native city are not soon forgotten by one who travels through China, and one's ideas of modesty, too, are sadly wrenched.
But whatever may be said of the habits of the lower class Chinese, they are an industrious and patient people. After watching them work and observing the conditions under which they live, one can scarcely begrudge them whatever comfort they can find in the dreams of Heaven which they draw from their opium pipes. And speaking of opium, one is restrained from speaking too harshly of the habit by a recollection of the fact that the opium trade was forced upon the "Heathen Chinee" by a great Christian nation.
The Chinese have their amusements, one of which is the theatre. We attended one theatre in Pekin and found the room crowded with men. It was a commodious hall with a gallery, but the stage was not relatively so large as in Japan. The acting reminded us more of the American stage than did the Japanese, but the scenery was exceedingly scanty. The audience expressed itself in approval or disapproval with a good deal of freedom.
We found a sport in China which we have not heard of elsewhere, viz., quail fighting. These little birds are matched against each other as fighting cocks are in the Spanish countries. One American told us of a fight between cockroaches. These combats, as well as those between the quails, give an opportunity for betting—a vice which prevails in the Orient as well as in the Occident.
The Chinese have a bird contest which involves neither cruelty nor bloodshed, although the element of gambling is also present in it. I refer to the singing matches between larks. The Chinese are very fond of birds and one cannot go upon the street without seeing men carrying bird cages. The birds are aired much as pet dogs are exercised in our country. The favorite singing bird is the lark, and these are entered by their owners in contests, considerable sums often being placed upon a bird. The award is made by the birds themselves, one after another confessing defeat until but one songster is left upon his perch. The winner is quite exultant, while the others show as much humiliation as a Chinaman who has "lost his face." The defeated birds will not sing again for months.