Our path lay off the main road and through a fine valley. The greater part of the way was a watercourse, lined on each side with lovely trees.

We had arranged to stay the first night at the house of one of our church members, a faithful old man with small ability but a true heart. He and his friends were expecting our visit. As we emerged from the shade of the trees, and were crossing a stony ridge at the head of the glen, in the dim twilight, we could descry figures and hear voices hailing us, and shouting, ‘Take the north road.’ Presently we met the old man and his son, their faces beaming. In the distance we could see lights and hear the hum of a village.

As we got near to the house, just on the edge of the hamlet, we found nearly all the villagers assembled. The greetings were numerous and cordial. Women came round, and were introduced as the mothers of sons named to us. Indeed, a woman's title in China is usually the name of her eldest son; and what title is sweeter to a mother's ear?

Everything was made tidy for us. The best kang was lit, and the mill-room arranged for a sitting-room.