Before 9 A.M. the deck of our vessel was crowded with Chinamen of all descriptions. In one corner might be seen the tailor spreading out his fancy clothing; then the shoemaker with his shoes, taking the measures of such of the crew as might want. In another part of the ship might be seen a complete variety store, with all descriptions of lacquered ware, artificial flowers, silk handkerchiefs, etc., all selling for a mere song. Washerwomen running about, engaging the washing while the ship remains in port; bumboats alongside with fruit and confectionery; carpenters, riggers, sail-makers, blacksmiths, etc., each with recommends, looking after and soliciting employment. The decks now presented a comical spectacle. The bald head of the Chinaman stood out prominent; the honorable tail, neatly dressed, the end tipped with ribbon, was conspicuous in all. Each was dressed according to his calling; the merchant in the finest silks, and the common laborer in the coarsest garments. Our Kanakas had their own sport with them, never having seen a Chinaman before, and regarded them as objects of the greatest curiosity. This was especially the case with Dick Simpson, our King Mills’ native. Not being satisfied with viewing them at a distance, he walked up to one, took hold of the long, braided tail of hair, and cried out, laughing heartily, “Look here! what for all the same? hey? All same big fool. By golly! I no been see all same that, my land!” He then laughed till he could laugh no more, seemingly splitting his sides. The poor Chinaman looked at him in perfect amazement, and, not appearing to relish the joke, jabbered away in his own language. This appeared to astonish Dick still more, and he again broke forth: “What this fellow talking about? see that! By golly! say, long-tail, what you talk about? You no saba noting; more better you go ashore; bimeby me eat you—look out!” Dick had to stop again to laugh heartily, the Chinaman stared so earnestly at him. By this time the trading had commenced quite briskly, and we overheard the following bargain between one of our boys and a Chinaman. The article was a pair of silk pants, for which the merchant wanted the sum of one dollar and fifty cents: “No you don’t,” says Jack; “I’ll give you three quarters of a dollar.” “No can do; no proper,” said the Celestial. “Well, that’s all I’ll give you; you mustn’t come aboard here to come any of your gouge games; if you do, overboard you go.” “Three quarters no can catch. S’pose one dollar one quarter, very good, proper.” “Not a bit of it; three quarters, no more.” “You no see; pant very good; No. 1; three quarters no can catch plofit; s’pose you like one dollar, very good.” “Three quarters is all I’ll give you; what do you say, old Chinaman? bear a hand.” “No; no can do; must catch one dollar.” “Shiver my timbers! old buggerlugs, if you don’t come to terms pretty soon, I’ll treat you to a salt-water bath; three quarters, or away you go.”