How many curiosities has he not to show—from the inevitable parrot, chattering in a foreign tongue, or swearing roundly in English vernacular, to the little ugly idol brought from India, but possibly manufactured in Birmingham!(92) If from China, he will probably have brought home some curious caddy, fearfully and wonderfully inlaid with dragons and impossible landscapes; an ivory pagoda, or, perhaps, one of those wonderfully-carved balls, with twenty or so more inside it, all separate and distinct, each succeeding one getting smaller and smaller. He may have with him a native oil-painting; if a portrait, stolid and hard; but if of a ship, true to the last rope, and exact in every particular. In San Francisco, where there are 14,000 or more Chinese, may be seen native paintings of vessels which could hardly be excelled by a European artist, and the cost of which for large sizes, say 3½ by 2½ feet, was only about fifteen dollars (£3). What with fans, handkerchiefs, Chinese ladies’ shoes for feet about three inches in length, lanterns, chopsticks, pipes, rice-paper drawings, books, neat and quaint little porcelain articles for presents at home, it will be odd if Jack, who has been mindful of the “old folks at home,” and the young folks too, and the “girl he left behind him,” does not become a very popular man. And then his yarns of Chinese life! How on his first landing at a port, the natives in proffering their services hastened to assure him in “pigeon English” (“pigeon” is a native corruption of “business,” as a mixed jargon had and has to be used in trading with the lower classes) that “Me all same Englische man; me belly good man;” or “You wantee washy? me washy you?” which is simply an offer to do your laundry work;(93) or “You wantee glub (grub); me sabee (know) one shop all same Englische belly good.” Or, perhaps, he has met a Chinaman accompanying a coffin home, and yet looking quite happy and jovial. Not knowing that it is a common custom to present coffins to relatives during lifetime, he inquires, “Who’s dead, John?” “No man hab die,” replies the Celestial, “no man hab die. Me makee my olo fader cumsha. Him likee too muchee, countoo my number one popa, s’pose he die, can catchee,” which freely translated is—“No one is dead. It is a present from me to my aged father, with which he will be much pleased. I esteem my father greatly, and it will be at his service when he dies.” How one of the common names for a foreigner, especially an Englishman, is “I say,” which derived its use simply from the Chinese hearing our sailors and soldiers frequently ejaculate the words when conversing, as for example, “I say, Bill, there’s a queer-looking pigtail!” The Chinese took it for a generic name, and would use it among themselves in the most curious way, as for example, “A red-coated _I say_ sent me to buy a fowl;” or “Did you see a tall _I say_ here a while ago?” The application is,