A singular meteorological phenomenon often occurs at Shanghai—_a fall of dust_, fine, light and impalpable, sometimes black, ordinarily yellow. The sun or moon will scarcely be visible through this sand shower. The deposit of this exquisite powder is sometimes to the extent of a quarter of an inch, after a fall of a day or two; it will penetrate the closest venetian blinds; it overspreads every article of furniture in the house; finds its way into the innermost chambers and recesses. In walking about, one’s clothes are covered with dust—the face gets grimy, the mouth and throat parched; the teeth grate; the eyes, ears, and nostrils become itchy and irritable. The fall sometimes extends as far as Ningpo in the interior—also some 200 miles out at sea. Some think that it is blown all the way from the steppes of Mongolia, after having been wafted by typhoons into the upper regions of the air: others think that it comes across the seas from the Japanese volcanoes, which are constantly subject to eruptions. [Illustration: VESSELS IN THE PORT OF SHANGHAI.] The population of Shanghai, rapidly increasing, is probably about 400,000 to 450,000 souls. It swarms with professional beggars. Among the many creditable things cited by Milne regarding the Chinese, is the number of native charitable institutions in Canton, Ningpo, and Shanghai, including Foundling Hospitals, the (Shanghai) “Asylum for Outcast Children, retreats for poor and destitute widows, shelters for the maimed and blind, medical dispensaries, leper hospitals, vaccine establishments, almshouses, free burial societies,” and so forth. So much for the heartless Chinese. The sailor certainly has this compensation for his hard life, that he sees the world, and visits strange countries and peoples by the dozen, privileges for which many a man tied at home by the inevitable force of circumstances would give up a great deal. What an oracle is he on his return, amid his own family circle or friends! How the youngsters in particular hang on his every word, look up at his bronzed and honest face, and wish that they could be sailors,— “Strange countries for to see.”