he progress of a play, a man is killed, he lies upon the
stage until the scene is ended, and then gets up and walks off.
Sometimes an attendant will bring in and place under his head a small
wooden pillow, so that the dead man may rest more comfortably. After an
actor has been beheaded, he has been known to pickup the false head and
apostrophize it while making his exit from the stage. The orchestra is
at the back of the stage. It usually consists of one or two
ear-splitting flageolets and a system of gongs and tom-toms, which keep
up an infernal din during the entire performance.

Chinese plays are usually historical, and vary in length from a few
hours to several months. The costumes are gorgeous after the Chinese
ideas of splendor. No females are allowed on the stage at all, young men
with falsetto voices invariably impersonating the women.

The restaurants of Chinatown are a very unsatisfactory feature of the
unsavory quarter. Many of the laborers board at them, and the smaller
ones are nothing in the world but miserable little chop-houses, badly
ventilated and exceedingly objectionable, and, indeed, injurious to
health and good morals. There are larger restaurants, which are more
expensively equipped. Shakespeare's advice as to neatness without
gaudiness is not followed. There is always a profusion of color in
decoration, but there is never anything like symmetry or beauty.

There are an immense number of joss-houses in Chinatown. Each company
has one of its own. Others belong to the societies, tongs and to private
parties. The appointments of these temples are gorgeous in their way.
One has recently been opened on Waverly Place, which far surpasses all
the others in the grandeur of its sacred equipments and decoration. The
idols, bronzes, carvings, bells, banners and the paraphernalia of the
temple are said to have cost about $20,000, and represents the highest
degree of Chinese art. In front of the throne in each of these temples,
where the principal god is seated, burns a sacred flame that is never
extinguished. In a cabinet at the right of the entrance is a small image
called "the doorkeeper," who sees that no harm befalls the temple of
those who enter.

The temple doors are always open, and those who are religiously inclined
can come in at any hour of the day. Prayers are written or printed on
red or blue paper. These are lighted and deposited in a sort of furnace
with an opening near the top, and as the sm