the numbers, those which by some secret process of his own he selects as the lucky set. The marked ticket is then paid in, and the holder receives a duplicate marked in the same way. On the day of drawing, the numbers are supposed to be dealt with by a mystic being or spirit, whose abode is darkness ; he who holds three of the winning numbers gets back his money in full, and he who holds the ten numbers gets back six thou- sand times his stake. This banker not unfrequently pockets fifty per cent as his profit for managing the lottery. Although gambling is a popular Chinese vice, it does not, so far as I am aware, meet with recognition from the Chinese Government, and this is all the more astonishing as it might be made to contri- bute largely to the Imperial revenue.
I have already noticed the floating population of Hongkong, a community which suffers great loss during the storms or ty- phoons common to the region. I had long been anxious to witness a typhoon, and I had my wish gratified on more than one occasion. The force of the wind at such times is more than I thought possible. It whirls ships helplessly adrift from their moorings, and I have seen them emerge from the storm with canvas torn to shreds, spars carried away, and masts broken off nearly flush with the deck. In Hongkong, the wind, with a sudden blast, has riven roofs from houses and blown them far inland, and has sent solid brick corners and projecting ve- randahs flying across the streets. Once while the tempest was at its height, I ventured down to the Praya, in time to see the crowd of Chinese boats and sailing craft that had been blown inshore and piled up in a mass of wreck below the city, at the western end of the beach. One or two intrepid foreigners had been there and had rescued a large number of the natives, but many more had gone down with their boats. The sky was
