Chapter 7 No.7

My Dear One,

All thy women-folk have been shopping! A most unheard-of event for

us. We have Li-ti to thank for this great pleasure, because, but for her,

the merchants would have brought their goods to the courtyard for us

to make our choice. Li-ti would not hear of that; she wanted to see the

city, and she wanted to finger the pretty goods within the shops. She

knew exactly what she wished, and life was made uncomfortable for

us all until thy Mother ordered the chairs and we went into the city.

We were a long procession. First, the August One with her four-bearer

chair; then your most humble wife, who has only two bearers-- as yet;

then Li-ti; and after her Mah-li, followed by the chairs of the servants

who came to carry back our purchases.

It was most exciting for us all, as we go rarely within the city gate. It

was market day and the streets were made more narrow by the

baskets of fish and vegetables which lined the way. The flat stones of

the pavements were slippery and it seemed our bearers could not find

a way amongst the crowd of riders on horses and small donkeys, the

coolies with their buckets of hot water swinging from their shoulders,

the sweetmeat sellers, the men with bundles, and the women with

small baskets. They all stepped to one side at the sound of the Ah-yo

of our leader, except a band of coolies carrying the monstrous trunk of

a pine-tree, chanting as they swung the mast between them, and

keeping step with the chant. It seemed a solemn dirge, as if some

great were being carried to the resting-place of the dead.

But sadness could not come to us when shopping, and our eager

eyes looked long at the signs above the open shopways. There were

long black signs of lacquer with letters of raised gold, or red ones with

the characters carved and gilded. Above a shoe-shop was a made for

the King of the Mountains, in front of a pipe-shop was a water pipe fit

for his mate. From the fan-shop hung delicate, gilded fans; and

framing the silk-shop windows gaily coloured silk was draped in rich

festoons that nearly swept the pathway.

We bought silks and satins and gay brocades, we chatted and we

bargained and we shopped. We handled jade and pearls and

ornaments of twisted gold, and we priced amulets and incense pots

and gods. We filled our eyes with luxury and our amahs' chairs with

packages, and returned home three happy, tired, hungry women,

thinking with longing of the hissing tea-urn upon the charcoal brazier.

That crowded, bustling, threatening city seems another world from

this, our quiet, walled-in dwelling. I feel that here we are protected,

cared for, guarded, and life's hurry and distress will only pass us by,

not touch us. Yet-- we like to see it all, and know that we are part of

that great wonder-thing, the world.

I am thy happy, tired,

Wife.