274 TROPIC DAYS 



a word of English, and a gardener. He had a way with 

 vegetables. They prospered under his hands, and 

 he also prospered, for next to gold, vegetables were 

 highly prized in that dry, almost verdureless country. 

 Just now he swayed along with a pair of heavy baskets 

 slung on a bamboo all the way from Wu Shu, as the 

 pilgrim under his load of sin, and as he swayed he 

 sang in a weak falsetto a ditty which sounded like 



" Nam mo pen shih shih chia 

 Man tan lai lei tsun fo ; 

 Hu fa chu t'ien p'u sa, 

 An fu ssu, Li she tzn." 



His baskets, each screened with languid gum-leaves, 

 held the week's output of his garden, representing in 

 money value at least two pounds. It was not likely 

 to yield half as much, for, being a new-chum, he was 

 fair game, and it was considered smart to impose on 

 his good-nature. He also paid through an agent a 

 weekly levy to Tsing Hi, which he understood purchased 

 the tolerance, if not goodwill, under all and every cir- 

 cumstance of the dreaded police and the populace 

 generally. It was a tax ; but Hu Dra was patient under 

 such exactions, as all his ancestors had been. They 

 were unavoidable, inevitable, a part of the mystery 

 of life, and consequently to be endured, if not with 

 complacency, at least without murmur. His profits 

 for the week might total one pound, a princely sum 

 considering the scene and circumstances of his birth 

 and upbringing in far Li-Chiang, where his father had 

 reared a large family in a shed over a sewer, and had 

 never possessed property or estate worth more than 

 five shillings. Soon, if this money-making business 

 continued to thrive, he would return thither. He 

 might for had he not been reared to the art of living in 

 such places? resume the sewer habit; but with three 



