July 6th, 1893. After all I went off to the Farm by myself, starting at ten, and only getting there after twelve, though the crossing of the River was rather exciting than slow, there being no freshet on; only all the dreadful rocks, that went to form the remarkable little harbour of the Dragon's gate, were now quite covered with water, so that our boat went careering over them. Yet afterwards it was so hot, that the coolies spent a long time eating and resting before they got me up the 1000 ft. from the River to the T'u Shan Temple, on the top of the first range of hills. I was annoyed to find the furniture in our Farm not cleaned, and a good deal of smell of dirt in spite of the many men, who had been out cleaning it for several days. The Shrine at one end of the room, that I had told the people they might take away, was still there. When I remarked on this, the Cook exclaimed it could not be moved. “Well then it must be cleaned,” I said, attacking it with a feather brush, and immediately producing a shower of dust. The Coolies all screamed. “You must not touch it! We cannot touch it!” they cried. “Call the woman of the house,” I said. But she again waved deprecatory hands, and cried “I cannot touch it,” to which the Coolies all replied in Chorus: “She cannot touch it! A woman!” Presently the Farmer appeared, very obliging but very grave. It seemed that he only could clean it.