ll THE TOURIST'S CALIFORNIA China wife. Sharks' fins at two dollars a pound are caviare to the native palate and are eaten with epicurean gusto. The mother holds a baby which reaches fat hands toward the table. They give it sticks of sugar-cane to nibble better food for two-year-olds than fins of sharks. A blue and ivory young autocrat sits with his back to a carved teak screen. They bring him sham shu, rice brandy, and a bowl of turnips boiled with oys- ters, slender chop-sticks crossed upon it. ... The thrum and sing-song of unmelodic harmony accompany the tap of the implements on the bowl's sides. The musicians are grouped in a far corner. Near them a withered manakin plays dar tin gow, Chinese dominoes, with a partner half asleep. The name of the restaurant may be " Balcony of Bliss," " Garden of Almonds," " Chamber of the Odour of Distant Lands." Shop signs in the street below imply " Peace and all Good Fortune," " Prospering by the Grace of Heaven," " Custom- ers Flocking Like Clouds." Drug stores bear over their doors the confident phrases, " Assured Health," "Vast Age Hall," "Flowery Font of Healing." Within, prescriptions are filled which call for pulverised horn, herbs which come baled in the holds of Chinese ships, and roots grated to powdery fineness. The hotel at which one stays will recommend a guide for a tour through this " Americanized Chi-
