Chap. XVIII. 



END OF SILK SEASON. 



377 



method of catching fish with as much interest as I 

 did myself, and could not refrain from expressing 

 their delight rather noisily when a poor fish got 

 caught. The fishermen themselves remained mo- 

 tionless as statues, and scarcely noticed us, except 

 to beg we would not make any noise, as it pre- 

 vented them from catching fish. 



We watched these fishermen for upwards of an 

 hour, and then asked them to sell us some fish for 

 supper. Their little boats were soon alongside 

 of ours, and we purchased some of the fish which 

 we had seen caught in this extraordinary and 

 novel manner. 



On the following morning, when I awoke, I 

 found myself quietly at anchor close by the west 

 gate of Hoo-chow-foo, my boatmen having worked 

 all night. I spent the next few days in the 

 country to the northward bordering on the T'ai- 

 hoo lake, and partly near the town of Nan-tsin, 

 being anxious to see the end of the silk season. 

 About the eighth, or from that to the tenth of 

 July, the winding of the cocoons had ceased almost 

 everywhere, and a few days after this there was 

 scarcely a sign of all that life and bustle which 

 is visible everywhere during the time that the 

 silk is in hand. The clash of the winding-ma- 

 chines, which used to be heard in every cottage, 

 farmhouse, and temple, had now ceased; the fur- 

 naces, pans, and wheels, with all the other parts 

 of the apparatus in common use during the wind- 

 ing season, had been cleared away, and a stranger 



