in itself.

The splendid buildings speak of commercial prosperity--banks, shops,
offices and clubs. Nearly every structure is the seat of prosperous
commercial ventures in Hong Kong and China proper; and tiers of
water-front warehouses locally called "godowns," are filled with
foodstuffs and manufactures that in time will be distributed through
every town of importance in the Flowery Kingdom. Hong Kong boasts that
her docks can accommodate the largest ships afloat (a fact until the
_Minnesota_ and _Dakota_, loaded with American flour, vainly sought
wharfage), and that she possesses the largest sugar refinery in the
world. But these circumstances are subordinate to the British
government's real interest in Hong Kong--to make it the base of naval
power in Asia, with dockyards and repair-shops equal to any demand, and
with coal-bins stacked with the prerequisite to sea-power.

[Illustration: A FORMER "HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR" OF HONG KONG]

The horse is included in no grouping in Hong Kong, where coolie takes
its place as bearer of burdens and hauler of vehicles. The sights of the
place are so strange and interesting that a traveler is sometimes there
for days before the fact dawns upon his vision that it is a city
innocent of horse-flesh. True, there are the runners and polo ponies at
Happy Valley race-course. Wherever the Briton plants his abiding-place,
there the horse and dog are brought--but in Hong Kong the former
requires a deal of attention, for it is only used in making a Briton's
holiday. The race-course is set in an intervale, and has cemeteries
overlooking grand-stand and entrances. A transplanted sportsman whose
every effort to name a winning steed at a Happy Valley meeting has
failed signally, finds superabundance of food for introspection as he
runs the gauntlet of cemetery portals on the way back to the city, and
very likely indulges in mental speculation as to the purpose in giving
the name of Happy Valley to a race-track whose betting ring is
overshadowed by burial grounds.

The "chit" as a moral pitfall is more potent in Hong Kong than in India
or other Eastern lands possessing a sprinkling of Europeans. A
newcomer's ears hear little but "chit." Every sentence uttered by
friends, every proposal of obsequious native merchant, is freighted with
the little word. You decide at last to cast off your ignorance and be of
the elect--to know what chit means and if possible become a chitter.
Very disappoin