against their will, remained in the ports.

Arrangements are apt to move slowly in this land of deliberation.
The genial and efficient United States Consul at Chefoo,
the Hon. John Fowler, joked me a little about my hurry to
start, laughingly remarking that this was Asia and not New
York, and that I must not expect things to be done on the
touch of a button as at home. But finding that a German
steamer was to leave the next day for Tsing-tau, the starting
point for the interior, the energetic missionaries helped me to
``hustle the East'' to get off on it. The Chinese tailor gasped
when I told him that I must have a khaki suit by six the following
evening, but when he learned that I was to sail and
therefore could not wait, he promised rather than lose the job.
The next day the steamer agent notified me that the sailing
hour had been changed to four o'clock. I sent word to the
tailor with faint hope of ever seeing that suit, and when a later
message gave three o'clock as the real time, I abandoned hope.
But the enterprising Celestial made his fingers fly, finished the
suit by 2:50 P. M., and took it to the house of my hostess.
Finding that I had already gone to the steamer, he hurried off
to the wharf, hired a sampan, sculled a mile and panting but
triumphant placed the suit in my hands just as the steamer was
getting under way. His charge for the suit, including all his
trouble and the cost of the sampan, was $7 Mexican ($3.50).

Saturday found me in Tsing-tau, and Monday, I turned my
face inland, accompanied by the Rev. J. H. Laughlin and Dr.
Charles H. Lyon, and, as far as Wei-hsien, by the Rev. Frank
Chalfant, all of the Presbyterian mission, besides Mr. William