The carriages of a funeral procession rolled along the maloo of modernized Shanghai. The mourners in the first carriage played cards and laughed. Every one else in the procession joked and smiled. I asked my Chinese humorist to explain the astonishing incongruity and he replied: “Why shouldn’t everybody be happy when everybody is deeply satisfied? Hop Long’s enemies believe that he has descended below to get at last the many punishments that are coming to him, and Hop Long’s friends just as confidently believe that he has ascended on high to receive his richly merited rewards; therefore, you see, all are joyful.” The landlord made an agreement with the tenant that when the rice was harvested, he should receive one-third. Harvest was long past in its pale and sickle moon, and the landlord, receiving nothing, accosted the tenant: “Look here, thou Choi, didn’t we make an agreement that I should receive one-third of that rice?” Choi, nothing daunted, replied: “Yes, Laoye, but there was no third; there were only two baskets of rice and they are both mine.” Two Chinese youths were discussing their ambitions. One said: “When I grow up I want to belong to a theatrical company.” His brother replied: “Humph, not I. I want the theatrical company to belong to me.” The Chinese do not raise milch cows or goats. The following aged milk joke accordingly has been trotted out before every mess table of Treaty Port China, and been made to blush as a novice for the entertainment of every griffin. It seems that the new China hands insisted on having fresh milk in their tea. For the sake of peace the Number One boy at last procured it. The new hands said: “Of course it’s not like the June grass milk at home, but it will do in a pinch.” The Number One boy smiled blandly. At last the milk ceased and the new hands demanded an explanation, which the Number One boy gave as follows: “No molo milkee; that piecee olo pig have now got litter of lil pigs; that piecee bucket whitewash now makee finish.” III INDUSTRIAL AND COMMERCIAL CHINA.