soldiers alone who would be sent to guard him from place to place. He
would not need to go farther afield; for he would be given fat men and
lean men, brave men and cowards, some blessed with brains and some not
one whit brainy, civil and surly, stubby and lanky, but rogues and liars
all. Travelers are always interested in their chairmen; oftentimes my
interest in them was greater than theirs in me, until the time came for
us to part. Then the "Ch'a ts'ien,"[AL] always in view from the outset of
their duty, brought us in a manner nearer to each other.

As I came out of the inn at Ch'u-hsiong-fu somewhat hurriedly, for my
men lingered long over the rice, I stumbled over the yamen fellow who
crouched by the doorside. He laughed heartily. Had I fallen on him his
tune might have been changed; but no matter. This unit of the city
humanity was not bewilderingly beautiful. He was profoundly
ill-proportioned, very goitrous, and ravages of small-pox had bequeathed
to him a wonderful facial ugliness. He had, however, be it written to
his honor, learnt that life was no theory. One could see that at a
glance as he walked along at the head of the procession, with a stride
like an ox, manfully shouldering his absurd weapon of office, which in
the place of a gun was an immense carved wooden mace, not unlike a leg
of the old-time wooden bedstead of antiquity. His ugliness was
embittered somewhat by sunken, toothless jaws and an enigmatical stare
from a cross-eye; he was also knock-kneed, and as an erstwhile gunpowder
worker, had lost two fingers and a large part of one ear. But he had
learnt the secret of simple duty: he had no dreams, no ambition
embracing vast limits, did not appear to wish to achieve great things,
unless it were that in his fidelity to small things he laid the base of
great achievements. He waited upon me hand and foot; he burned with
ardor for my personal comfort and well-being; he did not complicate life
by being engrossed in anything which to him was of no concern--his only
concern was the foreigner, and towards me he carried out his duty
faithfully and to the letter. I would wager that that man, ugly of face
and form, but most kindly disposed to one who could communicate little
but dumb approval, was an excellent citizen, an excellent father, an
excellent son.

So very different was another traveler who unceremoniously forced
himself upon me with the inevitable "Ching fan, ching fan," although he
had no food