CHEUNG CHOW LONG ISLAND
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with a deft sweep of the foot, does one see more than an ankle.
Our friend on the other side is not so particular. He sits in the open space between two counters of his shop, and having rolled his cotton singlet up into his armpits, fans with languid strokes a portly form, naked to a very low waist. Now the road begins to widen. It is almost four strides across at this point, owing no doubt to the zeal of some P.W.D. official, but as the extra width is entirely taken up with stalls extended from the shops, no loss of custom can be said to result.
We have come through a crowded street, and not seen a scowl or a frown, not been jostled, or hustled. The sweating burdened porters have been given right of way, politely asked for, and as graciously conceded. For in China men respect the burden. There are no cars or even bicycles to upset the stream, but if a European, in the usual hurry to leave a boat or catch a boat walks rapidly through the street, there is sometimes a little awkward eddy in the stream, and people have to step aside into shops while the impatient one passes. Not that the Europeans push or rudely press, for there is perfect good temper, and understanding on both sides; but distinguished foreigners in all countries are apt to be in a hurry, one has to help them on their way.
Now we are in the market place... rows of stalls covered with canvas shades set forth cigarettes and sweets, vegetables, fish and meat. Cooked food is here in plenty, steaming soups and succulent pork: cheap Japanese matches, cottons and tin and hardware: but above all, food. The Chinese like to snatch a snack now and then between the main meals. Many coolies feed entirely on snacks obtained at these stalls, drink a cup of tea, take a cake or a bowl of rice, and put down a few cents before they gird up their loins and pass on to the next task. There is also a restaurant of two storeys here, overlooking the pier, the first storey buttressed by barbers' parlours, resplendent with mirrors and American barbers' chairs made in Canton. This is the Cantonese or Punti ward, here in the centre where drapers' shops, and chandlers, the pawnshop and houses are thickest. The Punti is one of the world's best traders and financiers within his own range, and it is here or hereabouts that the village magnates live and work. Here are the money lenders and fish merchants, the landlords and rulers of the people, the mortgage holders for whom the fishermen mostly work. This is the down town section, and the operations are probably