Tuesday, April 17th.—A quiet day indoors, receiving calls and writing mail for to-morrow's post, preparatory to setting out to visit the coalmine belonging to my friend Tung.

Wednesday, April 18th.—At eight o'clock friend Tung and his nephew arrived with three small shaggy ponies, one of which, a well-conditioned little animal standing about twelve hands, and a native of the neighbouring province of Kwei-chow, was destined for myself. My hosts had put a Miao-tse saddle on him. This, like all saddles in China, was made of wood, but it was covered with heavy carved lacquer, precisely like the celebrated Soochow ware. A wadded quilt, topped with a foreign blanket, succeeded however in shielding this showy but uncomfortable piece of furniture from the public gaze, as well as from the rider's posterior. A crowd assembled to see us off; we were soon mounted and trotted off gaily down the slippery street. My little animal being the best goer, I was requested to take the lead. My natural inclination to walk through the narrow crowded streets was overcome by my companions urging me to hurry on, as we were due at Shih ma Tsao, my host's home, where breakfast was awaiting us, at nine o'clock. The collar of bells, with which all Chinese riders surround their ponies' necks, warns the foot-passengers to stand aside, while their merry jingle gives a sense of speed and adds to the festive air of the cavalcade.