The British residents in the Far East are very British, have all the old-fashioned British insular prejudices, and amongst these they cherish dearly the dislike of unknown acquaintances. The etiquette of the settlement is an extension of the etiquette of railway travelling in Great Britain. The first passenger to occupy a seat in a compartment resents the intrusion of a stranger; and if two strangers are going a long journey, half the distance will probably be covered before they speak to each other; then possibly they get so interested in each other that both regret they did not start the acquaintance earlier. That is the China coast. The new-comer, a stranger, a sort of interloper, must be watched, and taught that there was some one in the country before he arrived. In the course of time, perhaps not long before he leaves the country and its residents for ever, he is one of them. He is an old timer, a Shanghai-lander himself. He forgets then the icy chilliness of his reception, and becomes as the others. How often you hear your fellow-passenger on the railway say, “We do not want any one else in here!” as he assumes his most formidable aspect, and frowns through the window, glaring at the would-be passengers seeking for seats. And sometimes people will even give a tip to the railway servants, so that they themselves “shall not be disturbed.” And the China coast men do not want new settlers--except the officials Government imposes; they do not want to be disturbed; do not want Americans, or Germans, or any other settlers, not even British, and they have a law, long since abolished in England, by which the British Consul can exile, or banish, or deport any British subject from the settlement. It is the hoary penalty of the ancients; it is the practice of Russia, and its survival amongst British people in their own settlement is an anomaly.