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 swa^'ed 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 sw^ayed 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 w^as 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, wiiere 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 



