found the demeanour of the people much less offensive than a Chinaman in the lower quarters of London would. The shops were filled with articles of European manufacture. Clocks, cloth, oleographs, lamps, kerosene oil tins, even sewing‐machines were for sale. Eating‐houses, tea shops, stalls covered with the usual weird forms of food, raw or cooked, abounded. The Chinaman has a catholic taste. Horseflesh, dogs, cats, hawks, owls, sharks’ fins, and birds’ nests are freely sold in Canton for human consumption. Carpenters were busy making the substantial furniture to be found in almost every Chinese house. Blacksmiths and coppersmiths added the noises of their trades to the din that resounded through the narrow streets. Peddlers with their wares spread about them on the ground helped to choke the congested thoroughfares. Beggars shouted loudly for alms and drew the attention of the passers‐by to their disgusting sores and deformities. Canton is famous for its ivory carvers and the artists in the beautiful feather work, the making of which seems to be confined to this city. As I wished to purchase some specimens of this unique art, our party stopped at an establishment famed for its production. The shop was lofty but dark. The owner came forward to receive us, and spread on the counter a large selection of ornaments for our inspection. Trinkets of all kinds, lace‐pins, pendants, brooches were exhibited, all evidently made for European purchasers. The designs were very pretty. Large butterflies shone with the reflected lights and golden lustre of the beautiful green and blue plumage of the kingfisher. Tiny fishes delicately fashioned, birds of paradise, flowers were all reproduced in flimsy gold or silver work. Learning that I was anxious to see the process of the manufacture, the proprietor led me over to watch one of the workmen who sat around busily employed. On a metal ground‐work with raised edges and lines the feathers are fastened to reproduce the colours of the designs. With nimble fingers and delicate pincers the tiny strips of plumage are laid on and cemented. Keen sight is required for the work; and the proprietor told me that the eyes of the workmen engaged in it soon fail. It takes five years for an apprentice to thoroughly learn the art; and after he has laboured at it for two years more his vision becomes so obscured that he has to give it up and seek some other occupation. It is little wonder; for the shops in these narrow, shaded streets are always dark, and the artificial light generally used is furnished only by the cheapest European lamps. The prices of the various articles are very moderate, when one considers the delicacy and beauty of the work. Butterflies an inch across can be purchased for two or three dollars.