A few evenings have passed, and the rain still continues. It was welcome at first, for the ground was dry indeed. “At first it was a fine, gentle rain, then came in close layers, watering the crops and irrigating the farms, where the wild flowers hang down with a weight of glittering gems; invigorating the soil and fertilising the fields, from whose tender blade points the pearls roll down in wild confusion.” A welcome rain indeed, but will it wear out its welcome?

On wet evenings, the simply-built and simply-furnished houses in Chinese country villages seem very homes, especially when the little rush pith saucer lamp has given place to candles, shining with ruddy light through their flower-painted and poem-decorated glass boxes, making the red scrolls gleam out cheerfully from the dull brown walls. Such light, too, gives a Rembrandt effect to the whole scene.