if looking over the barriers they see the
insignia of their rank and office gracing the glowing head-gear of the
tourists who form great parties and come racing from over the seas to
look at us as at queer animals from another world?

It is not only the men who are copying the foreign customs and
clothing. Our women are now seen in public, driving with their
husbands, or walking arm in arm upon the public street. I even saw a
Chinese woman driving that "devil machine," a motor-car, with her own
hands. She did not seem a woman, but an unsexed thing that had as
little of woman-hood as the car that took her along so swiftly. I
promised to send Tah-li the new hair ornaments, but there are no hair
ornaments worn now. The old jewels are laid aside, the jade and
pearls are things of the past. The hair is puffed and knotted in a way
most unbecoming to the face. It is neither of the East nor of the West,
but a half-caste thing, that brands its wearer as a woman of no race.

Dost thou remember the story over which the Chinese in all the
Empire laughed within their sleeves? Her Majesty, the Empress
Dowager, was on most friendly terms with the wife of the Minister of
the United States of America, and on one occasion gave her as a gift
a set of combs enclosed within a box of silver. The foreign lady was
delighted, and did not see the delicate sarcasm hidden within the
present. Combs-- the foreign ladies need them! We Chinese like the
locks most smoothly brushed and made to glisten and shine with the
scented elm, but they, the foreign ladies, allow them to straggle in
rude disorder around their long, grave faces, which are so ugly in our
eyes.

Thou hast asked me for the latest style in dress. It is impossible to
say what is the latest style. Some women wear a jacket far too short
and trousers tight as any coat sleeve. The modest ones still cover
them with skirts; but I have seen women walking along the street who
should certainly stay within the inner courtyard and hide their shame.
For those who wear the skirt, the old, wide-pleated model has gone
by, and a long black skirt that is nearly European is now worn. It is
not graceful, but it is far better than the trousers worn by women who
walk along so stiffly upon their "golden lilies." These tiny feet to me
are beautiful, when covered with gay embroidery they peep from
scarlet skirts; but they too are passing, and we hear no more the
crying of the children in the courtyards. I a