again, and, tired with their long tramp, they arrived at a town called
Tionglek, and decided to spend the night there. The place was about the
size of Tamsui, with between four and five thousand inhabitants, and
was quite as dirty and almost as noisy. They walked down the main street
with its uneven stone pavement, its open shops, its noisy bargains, and
above all its horrible smells. With the exception of an occasional visit
from an official, foreigners scarcely ever came to Tiong-lek, and on
every side were revilings and threatenings. One yellow-faced youngster
picked up a handful of mud and threw it at the hated foreigners; and
"Black-bearded barbarian," mingled with their shouts. Mackay's bright
eyes took in everything, and he realized more and more the difficulties
of the task before him.

They stopped in front of a low one-story building made of sun-dried
bricks. This was the Tiong-lek hotel where they were to spend the
night. Like most Chinese houses it was composed of a number of buildings
arranged in the form of a square with a courtyard in the center. Dr.
Dickson asked for lodgings from the slant-eyed proprietor. He looked
askance at the foreigners, but concluded that their money was as good
as any one else's, and he led them through the deep doorway into the
courtyard.

In the center of this yard stood an earthen range, with a fire in it.
Several travelers stood about it cooking their rice. It was evidently
the hotel dining-room; a diningroom that was open to all too, for
chickens clucked and cackled and pigs grunted about the range and made
themselves quite at home. The men about the gateway scowled and muttered
"Foreign devil," as the three strangers passed them.

They crossed the courtyard and entered their room, or rather stumbled
into it, in semi-darkness. Mackay peered about him curiously. He
discovered three beds, made of planks and set on brick pillars for legs.
Each was covered with a dirty mat woven from grass and reeking with the
odor of opium smoke.

A servant came in with something evidently intended for a lamp--a
burning pith wick set in a saucer of peanut oil. It gave out only a
faint glimmer of light, but enough to enable the young missionary to see
something else in the room,--some THINGS rather, that ran and skipped
and swarmed all over the damp earthen floor and the dirty walls. There
were thousands of these brisk little creatures, all leaping about
in pleasant anticipation of the goo