Days in early October are perfect for visiting the country. The thermometer stands at 70° to 80°. We set out one clear, fresh morning at about eight o’clock. I went in a sedan-chair, and the two others in a wheelbarrow—not such an uncomfortable conveyance as might be supposed, except when the roads are very rough. The occupants recline on each side of the wheel, and parallel to it, in a padded seat with back rests and cushions, their feet extended full length in front; the barrow is wheeled from behind, and has a man harnessed like a beast in front. As this was a heavy barrow there were two additional men pulling, one on each side of it. The sedan-chair travelled quicker than the barrow, and had the advantage of taking short cuts across the fields. It was carried by four men, two in front and two behind; the front ones carried by means of a pole, to which the shafts were suspended—which ran parallel to them—while the carriers at the back were in the shafts themselves. When the men wished to shift the weight from one shoulder to the other, they supported the pole by means of an upright one which they carry for the purpose. Owing to these arrangements the chair can be equally well carried by three men as by four, two in front and one behind, in which case the back carrier is much farther from the chair than the front men.

I was soon well ahead, and did not witness the catastrophe that happened to the barrow shortly after starting. Going round a corner rather too fast, the barrow was upset, and one of my friends was tipped out into the dust; but the other, on the upper side, managed to hold on. Happily, no damage was done, as the fall was into a soft, clean heap of dust. But it was not so pleasant a matter for another friend to whom this happened when she was travelling the same road earlier in the year. She was tipped over into a sea of mud, and as she happened to be carrying a basket full of eggs, she suddenly found herself in a “Yellow Sea.”

Leaving the city behind us, we passed through open country where every one was still busy harvesting in the fields. Some fields were already ploughed, in others green wheat stood a few inches high; it would not be much higher before the snow came to cover it for winter. Much of the foliage looked more like spring green than autumn, and many of the villages lay embowered in trees—willows, aspens, cryptomerias, the last-named always belonging to temples or adjoining graves. The threshing-floors were filled with golden grain being prepared for winter storage. Bean pods were being broken up by means of stone rollers, worked by donkeys, blindfolded with neat straw goggles. On one occasion I saw a donkey wearing a pair of ornate blinkers, bright blue cotton with protuberant black eyes surrounded by a white line. The Chinese love to decorate the things in common use, and it is a perpetual joy to see the skill and ingenuity expended on simple objects. After the bean pods have been crushed the different parts of the plant are raked into separate heaps on the threshing floor—bean, husk, stalk, and chaff—for every particle is used in one way or other. If one were asked to state what was the most striking feature of this great empire, I almost think it would be this: the carefulness which prevents waste, the ingenuity which finds a use for everything. Even the green weed covering the ponds is used as fodder for pigs. When the fields look quite empty after harvest, the women and girls gather together the few remaining straws. Every inch of ground is cultivated, except the endless mounds, the graves of countless generations.

The country was a scene of delightfully cheerful energy, whole families working together; a tiny child lying naked, basking in the sun, the women (despite their bound feet) as busy as the men. Barrows passed along, groaning under loads so heavy that it needed a friend to drag in front, while at the end of some five yards of traces a donkey trotted along, waiting to give its assistance till it was more urgently needed, as, for instance, going uphill or over difficult ground. The reins were attached to each side of the barrow, and could only be manipulated by a dexterous twist of the wrists. Occasionally a man rode by on a pony, whose coming was heralded by a tinkling of bells. As the country is covered with crops, not many cattle are to be seen, and any there may be are mainly fed on bean cakes. We were swiftly borne through village after village, and my men only set me down for one ten minutes’ rest during the ten miles, which we covered in two hours and forty minutes.

As we entered Wang Chia Chuang (Wang = family village), the whole community, headed by the Wang family, turned out to meet us, having been warned the day previous of our intended arrival, and we were ceremoniously led to the Guest Chamber. On the outside of the entrance to the house little strips of red or orange paper were pasted up, and in the inner courtyards as well. On these papers are sayings from the writings of Confucius, or other mottoes, such as the following:

These couplets are renewed at the beginning of the year, and the village schoolmaster has a busy time writing them.

Tea was brought in, and not only the family and schoolgirls, but also the neighbours came to see us, pouring out a flood of talk, of which we understood nothing. Then we went into the schoolroom across the courtyard, and found it and the girls as clean as soap and water could make them. The certificated teacher was about twenty years of age, and in this case happened to be Mr. Wang’s daughter. Her room opened out of the schoolroom, and was a pattern of neatness—it was ornamented with photos. Her salary is £3 per annum. The curriculum of these village schools consists of the three R’s, singing, drill, and sewing, and it is wonderful to see the difference in the appearance of the girls after they have been a short time under training, the awakened intelligence showing to a marked degree. The more promising students get drafted on to the boarding-schools for further training, with a view to their becoming teachers. The largest of these schools only contain thirty scholars, but they have two teachers for that number of scholars. An official who happened to visit one of these schools was filled with astonishment at the behaviour of the girls; as soon as he entered they all stood up, and answered the questions he put to them with modesty and clearness. He said how different this was from the behaviour in the national schools for boys, and sent a large sum of money (comparatively speaking) to be divided among the scholars, as a mark of his appreciation. In the large towns Government schools for girls are being started, but in the country there are only mission ones. Dating from the new year (1909) school attendance is compulsory for boys throughout the Empire, therefore the Government is responsible for the establishment of the requisite number of schools—at least one in every village. At first there was a difficulty in starting village girls’ schools; now they are in great demand, and sufficient teachers cannot be obtained.

After we had heard the children sing and had inspected their writing and sewing, &c., we watched Mr. Wang doling out medicine in a patriarchal way in the courtyard. Several people had taken the opportunity of our visit for killing two birds with one stone, namely, seeing foreigners and obtaining medicine. One of them showed us her unbound feet with great pride, as she had just achieved the process of unbinding, and she presented us with her old shoe, much worn, but beautifully embroidered, in which she used to work in the fields. The Chinese naturally have remarkably small feet, and in this village most of them are unbound, as the majority are Christians, but the feet are so tiny that in many cases it is difficult to believe that they are not bound. The women wear white linen socks, and their wide trousers are neatly fastened over them with different coloured braids. Village life here looks eminently patriarchal. The sons do most of the work, all living with their families under the same roof. One of the daughters-in-law had a beautiful Madonna-like face, as she sat nursing her baby, with other youngsters crowding round her knees. No one could have failed to admire the saintly expression and graceful pose. The two married daughters of the house were living in a neighbouring camp with their husbands, who are Manchu officers. All the prefectural towns have Manchu garrisons, but it would not be possible for a foreigner to tell the difference between Manchu and Chinese soldiers.

Our visit came to rather an abrupt close, as we were warned that we must reach the city before sundown or the gates would be closed. Mr. Wang brought in preserved pears and tomatoes strewn with sugar, which are esteemed a great delicacy, and then we started on our homeward way. Work in the fields was ended for the day, but for many of the Chinese work is never ended. Until all the grain is housed, watch must be kept by day and night. Small huts are erected in the fields for this purpose, sometimes perched on tall poles, from which a wide outlook can be kept over the country, or on the threshing-floors adjoining the farms.