river in a steam-launch. It was not interesting, as there were only shipbuilding yards, docks, and factories along its banks.
Shanghai presented the appearance of a very large, handsome town, with fine buildings along the Bund. I went to the Astor House Hotel. There were cabs, chairs, and rickshaws plying the streets. I explored many Chinese streets and the British Concession where are the best buildings, and which is the best-laid-out part of the town. As in Hong-Kong there are three classes of police—the familiar British "Bobby," the Sikh, and the Chinese. As you drive along the Bund in the British part you come to a bridge, get out, walk across it, and find yourself in the French Concession, and take another rickshaw, and there are their houses, badly paved streets, and their police. I visited, of course, the Chinese tea-house, which is after the pattern of those you see pictured on a "willow-pattern" plate. The carriages have Chinese servants in smart liveries. It was very cold and snowed in the evening.
In the morning the town was white with snow, the rickshaws and their coolies looking so odd; but soon the snow under foot was churned into disgusting mud. Shanghai did not impress me favourably at all but, of course, I only had a glimpse of it under unfavourable aspects, and know I little about it.
I left about 1 p.m. on the steam-launch to rejoin the Sachsen.
A rather noted man was a passenger, in the person of Colonel Olcott, of Theosophist and Madame Blavatsky fame; and with this personage I had a long talk. He had white hair and a long, flowing white beard and piercing eyes—very sharp and very clever, and we had an interesting enough conversation.
