, worked by means of cable
to an elevation of fourteen hundred feet, leads to it. It cost the city
140,000 Mexican dollars, and pays about five per cent on the investment.
The round trip is fifty cents. The views are grand in extent, but it
requires considerable nerve to face the apparent danger. However, we
find ourselves on the summit in an incredibly brief space of time. The
ten square miles of harbor is spread out before you with its myriads of
vessels and floating hospitals. The enjoyment of this scene quite repays
one for the undertaking. Queen's road (the principal street of Hongkong)
runs parallel with the water; from this street, running toward the
mountain, the grade is uphill. We ascend stone steps, twenty to thirty
in number, to reach the street beyond; consequently we do not frequent
them often. Flowers are in profusion for sale and most artistically
arranged. The drive to the "Happy Valley," the burial place of the
European, Parsees and Mahometans, each within their own walls, is indeed
aptly named. We were preceded by two sedan chairs borne by four coolies,
each dressed in red kilted skirts and white turbans. The occupants were
two small boys, eight and ten years of age, with their amia, or nurses,
who bore quantities of lovely flowers. On alighting we followed them to
two freshly made graves; from these the boys removed decayed flowers and
placed most lavishly those they had brought with them. It was a touching
sight. We imagined the parents had been the victims of a scourge that
was still hovering over the city. It is a trying climate. The American
consul, Mr. Hunt, from Tennessee, called upon us, and we returned the
visit at his home, nestled among the palm trees and alongside the
botanical gardens. His family were feeling the effect of their
protracted sojourn here and yearned for a change.

The distance from Hongkong to Canton is ninety-five miles by the river.
We were somewhat surprised to find the captain of our vessel from
Prairie du Chien, Wis., whose family was still residing there. It is
said that a population of 300,000 people live in boats upon these waters
and have no other home. With the baby on her back the mother swings the
heavy scull, while the other children act as ducks in the water, some
being tethered to the vessel, apparently without any sense of danger. At
the slightest indication that one of these boats are needed, fifty or
more will rush to the spot, clambering in loud voices for