"I say, why don't we get that interpreter chap to take us all round the place?" "Don't know where he lives," said Barkins, "or it wouldn't be a bad plan." "I know," I cried. "How do you know?" "He showed me when he was on board, through the little glass he wanted to sell you." "Why, you couldn't see through that cheap thing, could you?" "Yes, quite plain. It's just there, close to the warehouses, with a signboard out." "So it is," cried Smith, shading his eyes; and he read aloud from a red board with gilt letters thereon-- Ching Englis' spoken Interpret Fancee shop Just then the boat glided up against the wood piles; we sprang out on to the wharf, ordered the men back, and stood for two minutes watching them well on their return for fear of any evasions, and then found ourselves in the midst of a dense crowd of the lower-class Chinese, in their blue cotton blouses and trousers, thick white-soled shoes, and every man with his long black pigtail hanging down between his shoulders. These men seemed to look upon us as a kind of exhibition, as they pressed upon us in a semicircle; and I was beginning to think that we should end by being thrust off into the water, when there was a burst of angry shouting, a pair of arms began to swing about, and the owner of the "fancee shop," whose acquaintance we had made on board, forced his way to our side, turned his back upon us, and uttered, a few words which had the effect of making the crowd shrink back a little. Then turning to us, he began, in his highly-pitched inquiring tone--"You wantee Ching? You wantee eat, dlink, smoke? Ching talkee muchee Englis'. Come 'long! hip, hip, hoolay!" CHAPTER TWO. A PIECE OF CHINA. Ching flourished his arms to right and left, forming a lane for us to pass along, and we followed him for the few dozen yards between the landing-place and his place of business; but it was like passing through so much human sand, which flowed in again behind us, and as soon as we were in the shelter of the lightly-built bamboo place, crowded round the door to stare in. But Ching had regularly taken us under his protection, and, stepping into the doorway, he delivered himself of a furious harangue, which grew louder and louder, and ended by his banging to the door and fastening it; after which he turned to us with his little black eyes twinkling, and crying-- "Allee light. Ching light man light place." We all laughed, of course, and the Chinaman joined in. Then, growing serious directly, he looked from one to the other. "You likee dlink?" "No, no, not yet," cried Barkins. "No likee dlink?" said the Chinaman wonderingly; and then in a voice full of reproof, "Sailor boy likee dlink." "Oh yes, by and by," cried Smith. "Ah, you wantee buy fan, shawl, ivoly? Fancee shop." "No, no, we don't want to buy anything now," cried Barkins. "We'll pay you--"