We reached Tsingchow-foo about noon. It is a departmental city of importance, and of great antiquity. We entered by the east gate, but found there were no inns in that quarter of the city. So we retraced our steps, and went outside the wall to reach the north gate, by which we went in. In one of the streets my husband got a most kindly greeting from a pleasant, bright-faced man. Inns were very few. After traversing a great part of the city, we went into one—a low, musty-smelling place. It was very damp; so we lit small fires of straw all over the floor. We were glad even to shut in the smoke, to help in freshening up the atmosphere.

A former traveller had deposited a large parcel of salted fish on the floor. The odour left from them was so very strong that I tried to avoid that corner of our Tsingchow-foo domicile. An old woman who came in gave another account of the disagreeable odour. Her tale was this:— ‘One evening two travellers arrived late and had supper. After everything was arranged for the night the younger of the two tapped at the landlord's room, and asked if he would take payment, as they found they must start before daybreak. […]