wards I had enough to pay my total expenses in Macao! When tired of it, the heat, and the Chinese perfume, I departed, and was quite surprised that my former enemies in the street did not see that that was the time to molest me, overflowing with ill-gotten wealth as I was. Every one comes from Hong-Kong for the week-end or a few days to indulge in this pastime, but, according to my old-fashioned ideas, it is a strange taste that brings ladies into such a place.
The following morning I hired a rickshaw and two Chinese boys and explored Macao. The streets of the town are narrow and often steep. I dislike a rickshaw very much, and still more do I dislike being drawn about by a panting and perspiring runner; but, of course, here it is the usual thing.
I went first to the ruins of the church of San Paulo, the façade of which is alone remaining, and it is a conspicuous object from every quarter. It was destroyed by fire in 1835. It is approached by long, steep flights of steps under which is said to be a vault containing treasure, and subterranean passages, leading to Guia fort, and under the sea for a mile to Green Island.
I was not a bit impressed by this tale of treasure. If it was there no one would have allowed me to dig it up, and what is the good of treasure in a vault anyway?
I inspected a silk factory in a dirty Chinese village, where numbers of women were spinning—a curious sight; then to Porta di Cerco—the barrier on the causeway which joins Macao and the island. Near this part are mud-flats in the seashallows where oysters, are cultivated. The men go over the mud on planks with great ease and at some pace. "Flora," the country residence of the Governor, is also near—a villa with a very charming
