PEKING, THE CITY OF THE UNEXPECTED 



351 



Photograph by Edgar K. Frank 



THE MARBLE BOAT ON THE LAKE AT THE SUMMER PALACE, NEAR PEKING 



"It was all so pleasant and sunny and spacious and peaceful, so like a garden in wonder- 

 land, that I could forgive even that most absurd of all architectural absurdities, the notorious 

 marble boat, built by the late Empress Dowager as a pleasure-house." 



It was all so pleasant and sunny and 

 spacious and peaceful, so like a garden 

 in wonderland, that I could forgive even 

 that most absurd of all architectural ab- 

 surdities, the notorious marble boat, built 

 by the late Empress Dowager as a pleas- 

 ure-house upon the lake. 



CLASSIC LEGEND OP THE BEACON TOWERS 



We took to our rickshaws again in the 

 afternoon and awav we trotted toward 



J 



the hills for seven miles more, past the 

 Jade Fountain Pagoda, past leisurely 

 camel trains, beyond the high road and 

 the dust of tourist autos, under the 

 shadow of somber, square, beacon towers, 

 marching in single file, at half-mile in- 

 tervals, out over the hill crests. 



The Chinese have a classic legend 

 about these beacon towers. It is the 

 Oriental counterpart of ./Esop's "Wolf! 

 Wolf!" 



Once upon a time the emperor, so runs 

 the story, was deeply in love with a 

 melancholy beauty who would not smile. 

 In vain he tried to banish her ennui until 

 he hit upon the scheme of lighting the 

 beacons. 



Flames leaped up from tower after 

 tower, rousing the country-side ; the host 

 assembled. Horsemen on shaggy ponies 

 from the northern plains, crossbowmen 

 in jointed bamboo armor, scimitared war- 

 riors with grim painted faces, poured into 

 the capital. 



The imperial lady was delighted with 

 the pageant, and when she saw the dis- 

 gust upon the faces of the clansmen as 

 they learned they had been summoned to 

 make a Dulcinea's holiday, she even 

 smiled. 



Not long after this the Tatars broke 

 over the wall. Again the beacon towers 

 lifted their fires against the hills : but no 

 host responded. The city was taken, the 

 emperor slain, and the melancholy beautv 

 carried oft by the wild men of the north. 



IN THE TEMPLE OE THE SLEEPING BUDDHA 



We crossed the line of beacon towers, 

 ran along a rough, pebbly lane to the 

 foot of the brown hills ; then up a short, 

 broad avenue of ancient cedars, under a 

 magnificent pailou of red, green, and 

 yellow, into the courtyard of the Sleep- 

 ing Buddha. 



