A year in China : $b and a narrative of capture and imprisonment, when homeward bound, on board the rebel pirate FloridaWilliams, Martha Noyes
General
A year in China : $b and a narrative of capture and imprisonment, when homeward bound, on board the rebel pirate Florida
Williams, Martha Noyes
Capture at sea -- Personal narratives; China -- Description and travel; Piracy -- Personal narratives
[16] This word has various meanings; I do not know, however, why it
is applied to these floating houses. The Chinese merchants speak of
a “chop” of tea or silk, meaning an amount which bears a certain
mark. They eat with chop-sticks; and a ship’s clearance to go to
sea, after she has taken cargo, is called a “grand chop.” Then there
is the expression, “chop-chop,” meaning, if addressed to a servant,
to “be quick,” or, “do it immediately.” To say “chop-chop” to your
chair-Coolie, means “step faster.”
[17] If a sample--called by the Chinese a “muster”--of Western
furniture is given to a Cantonese cabinet-maker, he will directly
produce a well-made and exact copy of the original.
[18] The unquestioned obedience which is rendered to Chinese parents
by their children, and the respectful reverence that is manifested
for the aged by all classes of the people, are the most remarkable
characteristics of the nation. In fact, the Chinese unwittingly keep
that commandment to which is annexed the promise, and it has been
questioned by many, whether their great antiquity and long-continued
existence as a prosperous nation, may not be owing to the honor they
pay their parents.
[19] The housekeeper has the store-rooms, pantries, safes for food,
etc., under her own supervision.
[20] That is, some god-worship.
CHAPTER VIII.
While living at Whampoa we went often to Canton, passing, altogether,
a month there in visiting friends, and places of interest. Steamers
carrying passengers and freight were despatched every alternate day
from Hong Kong and Macao, to Canton,--running up and down the estuary
and river; but although these boats always stopped at Whampoa, my
first sail up the river to the “City of Genii”--as an old legend terms
it--was made in a sanpan, which was rowed by three Chinese boatmen, and
sculled by a woman.
It was a clear and balmy morning in February,--the weather being more
like one of our cool and perfect summer days at home, when one always
feels the appositeness of Herbert’s lines:--
“Sweet day, so cool, so clear, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky.”
The New-Year festival had closed the day previous, but the Chinese
vessels and boats were still bedecked with their holiday trappings.
The newly painted junks with their butterfly sails, fancy streamers,
and red flags, made quite a gay appearance, and together with the
passenger-boats, cargo-boats, and sanpans,--from which were also
fluttering bright flags, streamers, and red papers,--produced a scene
at once unique and brilliant.
The land, on both sides of the river, which is low, is mostly used for
the cultivation of rice; and husbandmen, with their rude ploughs drawn
by buffalo oxen, were already preparing the soil to receive the seed.
The plantain, with its long, heavy clusters of ripening fruit, was
growing in great luxuriance upon the borders of the stream.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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