164 TRAVELLERS' TALES 



" Marco Polo ! " said the son in a casual manner, 

 flicking off the end of his cigar. " Oh yes, my old 

 Poppa was his guide. A nice man ! He came 

 from Russia. How old was he ? Well, I never 

 saw him myself; it was before my time. About 

 forty-five, I should say. He had a grand horse 

 he brought with him all the way from his own 

 country. He gave it to Poppa, but the poor beast 

 died from grief when the old man pegged out ! " 



" The mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure." 

 Doubtless the son of ^larco Polo's guide endorsed 

 the statement of the fraudulent Lord Chancellor ! 



Mr. Christie was away when we arrived, but 

 returned the following evening. The welcome 

 we received was so genuine and hearty that we 

 might have been old friends instead of casual 

 acquaintances. 



Missionaries in China as in other countries keep 

 open house, and it is seldom that their hospitality 

 is abused. 



There was one gentleman, however, who 

 travelled all over China from one missionary to 

 another, and claimed their generosity and services 

 on the ground that they were fully requited by 

 the advertisement (though the word is an odious 

 one in such a connection) which he gave them in 

 his writings. 



" You help me," he said, " and in return I put 

 ttventy pe?^ cent, of Christianity into my books." 



He foisted himself on one wretched man, who 

 rose at an unearthly hour " to speed the parting 

 guest," and provided him with a substantial break- 

 fast of eggs, bacon, coffee, etc. The latter, 

 arriving at the house of his next victim, com- 



