CHEUNG CHOW LONG ISLAND
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slowly in the widening bay, pushing a dark ripple before her. A sampan with three powdered and giggling girls drifts by, and as it passes, one sings in high quavering falsetto the first verse of a love song; then the second is sung by her companions. A young man sitting in his boat in the deep shadow of a junk's high stern answers the call, singing the third verse of the song, and the two boats glide together, and disappear towards the shore. "Another silly fish caught and ready to be landed!" But here is our little yacht with the cabin lit up and the wrinkled mahogany face of our boat boy gravely smiling a welcome. We tumble aboard and form our own animated group about the rice bowl while he withdraws to the bow, and sits there silent, still, waiting for the night wind and the tide.
The Mooncake Festival
The historian of Long Island has not yet appeared. He must be a Chinese, for no European can be sure of understanding the real meaning of the institutions and customs of a Chinese community. But until that historian appears, and perhaps to induce him to come forth and correct the presumptuous foreigner, here is an eye witness's account of a spring feast at Cheung Chow written from memory and the notes of a careful observer, Mr. A. C. Franklin.* It must be understood that the latter is not to blame for any inaccuracies in the following account.
+
On a day in May, looking from Hongkong towards the Island, through a good pair of glasses we see a new building towering above the houses and temples, and we decide to visit the island and investigate. The ferry starts from the immediate and unsavoury neighbourhood of a loading shoot for the town garbage. The ferries are crowded and frequent to-day, gaily flagged and decorated. Everyone on board is in holiday mood, laughing, eating, talking, and behaving rather like a good-tempered Bank Holiday crowd at home. There seem to be parties of visitors, teams of some kind, and there is an image in a chair on the lower deck. It is not being treated with any particular awe and reverence, indeed it seems more like a mascot than a holy thing.
Once out of the harbour we encounter nothing of special interest until we turn into Cheung Chow Bay. Here is a cheerful sight. The whole fleet is in and the bay is full. The heavy brown mat
Mr. Franklin followed the author as Registrar, University of Hong Kong, 1913-18. — Ed.