endants at a stand, in China we find a dozen, in summer
time naked from the waist upward, emaciated by opium smoking, and having
a sickly look painful to see. Most of the shops have a carved railing
and a counter facing the street, the ends of which are ornamented by
grotesque shapes of dogs and gilded idols. A figure of a pug-nosed dog
with bandy legs is very common. At the first glance it would be supposed
that this was one of those nondescripts the Chinese are so fond of
devising, but a closer examination shows that the figure is an admirably
life-like copy of an odd dog, common to Pekin, pug-nosed and
bandy-legged, and no doubt his form will be recognized in many of the
grotesque, awkward-looking figures of which ivory carvings abound in all
countries where Chinese curiosities are to be found.

Standing on the counter is generally a roll of joss-sticks wound
spirally around a wire frame, and always burning to the tutelary idol of
the shop, for the sake of good luck. It is the duty of one of the boys
to see that this coil of joss-stick is always lighted--a very convenient
arrangement for tobacco smokers strolling through the streets. Another
custom which they have, and which is also supposed to bring success to
the shopkeeper, is to encourage the swallows to build under the eaves
and among the bamboo rafters. Three or four of these nests of swallows,
with broods of twittering young ones, may often be observed in a single
shop, neat stretchers of cotton cloth or bamboo being built under the
nests, to prevent any possible damage to the goods. The birds seem quite
at home amid all the hubbub; and the kind care which protects them amid
a semi-barbarous people is one of those traits of a common humanity--of
kindness to the helpless--which marks the common origin of the most
civilized and most barbarous of the human race. The streets of Shanghai
are not divided among the trades, as in Canton, but shops of all kinds
occur in every crooked lane and alley-way. Principal among them are the
cookshops, some of which are evidently restaurants on a large scale, for
they are filled, from morning till night, with half-naked coolies,
eating indescribable dishes, of which rice is the great staple, and
sipping tea. They all sit at little tables, built for two, or at round
tables, seating half a dozen. In the country and in the suburbs these
last are drawn out into the open air at sunset, and are occupied by
parties taking their tea in a