There is hardly a sombre-looking face amongst them all, for the spirit of the day is upon every one. They present a most interesting and beautiful appearance; usually only men are seen in any numbers on the streets, but to-day women are quite as numerous as the men, and their gay and showy coloured dresses relieve the sombre blue in which the sterner sex delight to array themselves. All at once the hum of voices is hushed and all eyes are turned in the direction of the sea, for there the Dragon Boats have suddenly made their appearance, each one madly striving to beat the other as they both race on towards a junk anchored in the stream, from which flags and many-coloured streamers float in the breeze, and which has been appointed to be the goal towards which the boats must race. [Illustration: A DRAGON BOAT. _To face p. 129._] The Dragon Boats are long and narrow, and only just wide enough to allow two men to sit side by side and use their paddles to propel the boat. The number that is commonly employed in one of them is sixty, not including the coxswain, who stands in the stern holding a long oar with which he steers his way through the crowds of boats that have come with their passengers to get a good look at the races. The effect of these sixty men paddling with all their might is very striking, and puts one in mind of a huge centipede, though the Chinese, with more imagination and more poetry, have likened it to the fabulous dragon that plays so large a part in the mythology and superstition of the nation. The festivities continue for three days, and the inhabitants of the city with unabated zeal gather by the seashore to laugh and joke and gossip, and to look at the blue sky and to see the sea tossing and foaming under the pressure of South-West Monsoon. With the conclusion of the sports, the great masses of people that lined the hills and eminences near the edge of the sea melt away down the narrow arteries that constitute the principal streets of the town. They slowly vanish down the winding alleyways that seem to be like runs that lead to the burrows where the Chinese, as dense as rabbits in their lodges, pass their lives with little to vary the monotony excepting these joyous occasions that break in upon the dulness and greyness of their everyday experience. Another festival that helps to divert the minds and thoughts of the vast majority of the people is the "Feast of Tombs." This has its serious side as well as its pleasant one, and many a heart pours out its sorrows in tears and heartrending cries over the loved ones that have vanished into the dark world, whilst others, again, gather round the graves to hold fellowship, in spirit at least, with those whom they believe are conscious of their presence, and who can in some way or other affect the fortunes of the living.