mallest of eaters, would invariably answer
"No," leaving the fish to go whole and untouched to Madame Li, much to
her husband's delight.

One day afterwards in Peking the I.G. happened to speak with his
Chinese writer about Li Hung Chang's household--praising a simplicity
so rarely to be found in the yamens of the rich and powerful. There
happened to be a long interval before he lunched with the Viceroy
again, and when he did, he noticed to his horror that the servants
were bringing in an array of dishes suitable for a feast. Shark's fins
preceded expensive pickled eggs and followed choice bird's-nest soup.
What could the change mean? Simply that his complimentary remark,
maimed and contorted beyond recognition by ill-informed or mischievous
persons, had travelled to Li's ears, and that he had therefore
determined to treat his guest with the greatest possible formality.

"You shall not have the chance to go away again and say that you have
been fed like a coolie in my house," said the Viceroy proudly at the
end of the banquet.

"Nevertheless, the very simplicity of your hospitality was what I most
appreciated," the I.G. replied. "But if you believe that I could have
made any such remark, and if you persist in altering the style of my
reception, I shall not come to lunch with you again."

As if the cares of treaty making and Customs supervision, coupled with
the responsibility of being unofficial adviser to the Wai-Wu-Pu,
were not enough for one man, the I.G., at the request of the Chinese,
undertook to supervise China's part in the international exhibitions
of Europe. First came the Viennese Exhibition in 1873. He set his
various commissioners of ports collecting the products of their
provinces--silks, porcelains, lacquers and teas. It sounds so simple,
but often what may be told in a dozen words may scarcely be done in as
many months, and little less than a year of writing and planning and
directing can have elapsed before all details were in order, and
his four Commissioners of Customs were driving, like the Marquis of
Carabbas, in a glass coach through the streets of Vienna. The Chinese
spared neither pains nor expense to make a good showing, and gave a
gala performance at the Opera in return for Austrian hospitality.

In 1878 came the Paris Exhibition, and to this he went himself as
President of the Chinese Government's Commission. He arrived in Paris
just before the Exhibition opened--just in time to be presen