Our steamer stopped when nearly opposite this floating community, and the passengers were conveyed to their homes in the _sanpans_ of the Chinese boatmen. Our chop was a Baltimore clipper which had originally been built for the slave-trade; but not succeeding in that nefarious traffic, she was taken to China, and having been sold to the Imperial Government, a comfortable house was erected on her hull for the accommodation of the chief officer of their customs at Whampoa. Occidentals, who are not acquainted with chop-life in the East, invariably associate it with what they read in reference to the multitudes of poor people living in boats upon the waters of China, and hence imagine it to be a miserably half-civilized mode of existence. To such persons the idea must be accompanied with a poverty-stricken picture of discomfort, and an utter want of all the comforts of life, and the amenities of a cultivated home. On the contrary, however, my own experience in this novel mode of living was not only agreeable, but the oddity of it, together with our strange surroundings, gave it a peculiar charm. Our chop, comfortable in every arrangement, answered in exterior to the description already given of those built with verandas. There was one exception, however, as we had the advantage of an extra flight of steps for family use, which led from our own apartments to the water. The rooms were large and airy, with windows opening to the floors; and the latter being painted in figures and highly varnished, had the appearance of being covered with nice oil-cloth. The furniture,--like that of all foreign houses in China,--was European in the style of its manufacture.[17] Even the beautiful china-ware of the country,--which we admire so much at home,--is rarely used by foreigners when living among the Chinese; the simplest European table furniture being considered far preferable. Carpets are only used during the winter, when they are found to be very comfortable. During the year that I was in China, the winter was colder than usual, and we were glad to use the little American stoves with which our rooms were furnished. One of the few disagreeables of this kind of floating life was the constant change of view. We were continually turning with the ebb and flow of the tide, and consequently, if one sat at the same window a whole morning, there was an entire change of scene, and of course a corresponding change in the points of the compass. An inactive person, however, to whom variety is pleasing, might even enjoy this. The river at the anchorage is very broad and deep, and fearfully rapid,--so much so, in fact, that a person falling into it must be an expert swimmer in order to save himself.