54 TEA 



The principal piece of furniture in this poor apartment 

 is an altar, whereon stands a joss — a well-carved idol 

 of grotesque design — and a jar containing joss-sticks. 

 Near by are several baskets, wherein are fresh tea- 

 leaves, which have been brought hither from the fields. 



Another day we find ourselves in a shed which is 

 close by a temple. One side of this outhouse is 

 occupied by a row of basins, let into a brickwork 

 frame ; the basins are large in circumference but not 

 very deep, each being fitted at the bottom with a 

 shallow pan made of thin iron, set in a general lining 

 of cement. At one end of the row is a rude fireplace, 

 at the other end a rough-and-ready chimney, and 

 beneath the pans runs a flue. In these pans fresh 

 tea-leaves are being baked into a state of softness, 

 ready for rolling. It takes about five minutes to cook 

 the crispness out of each batch of leaves, and much 

 stirring of the contents of the pans aids in bringing 

 about the desired change. In another part of the shed 

 we see how the leaves are treated when they are taken 

 out of the pans. Here they are spread on boards, and 

 women and girls are pressing the moisture out of them 

 by treading them with bare feet. Close by are several 

 bamboo tables, covered with softened leaves ; round 

 these tables stand more women and girls, with here and 

 there a man, using their hands — very skilfully, be it 

 noted — to press out the moisture from the leaves and 

 roU them. 



Here is another scene which you wiU, I am sure, 

 often recall : at a table in a cottage parlour sits a little 

 Chinese boy, with a very long pigtail. Before him lies 

 an exercise-book. In his left hand he holds a saucer 

 containing some Indian ink ; in his right hand, a small 



