1 1 6 Through the Yang-tse Gorges 



raw Shanghai cotton that we have passed in a similar 

 condition since leaving Ichang. One or two days back, at 

 a similar wreck, a temporary stage had been erected, in 

 which the " pockets " were slung while the crew were 

 treading down the cotton into them. After having been 

 fourteen hours, as usual, under way, we ultimately brought 

 up for the night at Yang tu chi, a large village on the right 

 bank, noted for its earthenware factories, where very artisti- 

 cally shaped vessels can be purchased at nominal prices. 



After supper, it was proposed we should adjourn to the 

 opera, a celebrated company having come up from the city 

 of Wan to aid the villagers in propitiating the rain-god. 

 The performance was then proceeding in a temple on the 

 bank. Lighting a length of worn-out bamboo tow-line, 

 which our Tai-kung, or pilot, furnished us with, and which 

 made a most efi&cient torch, we threaded our way up the 

 steep sandbank and among the dirty temporary huts, 

 largely composed of opium dens, which in winter cover the 

 low ground adjoining the junks' halting-places. We at length 

 entered a handsome and solidly-constructed temple ; and 

 there, upon the fine stage in the first courtyard, was the 

 usual gay scene of a Chinese historical play. The stage was 

 Ut by two staring oil-lamps suspended from the proscenium, 

 reminding me of those of the London costermonger, and by 

 about a dozen red-wax dips. The auditorium was in 

 darkness. My intrusion was quickly detected by the crowd 

 of turbaned coolies, but I was not in the least disturbed, and 

 I stood looking on at some very good acting until ten 

 o'clock. These performances, usually of historical plays, like 

 Shakespeare's, and processions in honour of the gods, if they 

 do not always produce rain, at least serve to educate and 

 amuse the people, and to divert their thoughts from their 

 troubles. 



