While I was tasting the popular dishes of the Celestial Empire, the deputies from Pan-se-Chen arrived. They were in a charming vessel, rowed by eight men, which boarded our faï-ting.
The mandarin boats are large barks, light and long, with an elegant pavilion in the middle, the curved roof of which is ornamented by flowers and fantastic animals. They are distinguished from other vessels floating on the river by streamers, on which the titles of the proprietors are written. In the evening lanterns, covered with characters, replace the insignia of official vanity, and have the same effect. These pleasure boats are divided into two rooms, where you can easily isolate yourself by letting down an elegant mat in front of the door which separates them. Callery and I installed ourselves in the state saloon—that is, the one which opens on to the stern; it was surrounded by a bench of hard shining wood, and at short distances were placed small ebony tables. The floor was covered with a carpet made of dog's hair, and the windows were furnished with moveable blinds, admirably carved. Servants brought us two cups of tea on a red Japan tray, and then discreetly withdrew.
"It is necessary," said Callery, when we were alone, "that you should know where you are going to live."
"I do know," I replied; "I am going to my
