Friday morning, May 20/98.

I was delighted when Frank Musgrave turned up last night just after I had finished writing. He came up to my room, so we went down to dinner at once & spent a very happy time until 11, when we parted. He is to come on board the “Chingtu” tonight. The vessels are laying a very short way from each other. I hope he comes. “Sure, if can leave the workmen”. He tells me there isn’t time to do all that the boilers require, & the men are working continuously night & day. I feel very satisfied, however, that we [have] seen each other & spent a while together, but we should have enjoyed a day with each other, however, the circumstances won’t apparently admit it, so we must feel content with the pleasure we’ve had. [4:7] He says they get very little liberty when in ports, there being so much to put in order to keep the engines & boilers up to the required work. Old job. He also said that, but for having me here as a friend, he possibly would not have been ashore at Hong Kong. He is going to write home so he will give them his own version of our meetings. It feels like being a hot day again, but Frank tells me that in about a month from now it becomes, & continues for some time, almost insufferable, & every one feels done out daily, just gasping for the night, & often then, there does not come a breath of air & sleep becomes an impossibility. I fancy such a state of things would not suit me. Everywhere punkahs are kept going. Ice much in demand, every door & window open, yet it is exhausting. What hundreds of boys employed moving the punkahas, offices, private houses, shops, hotels, ships, in fact everywhere. Churches on Sundays too. Certainly it makes it somewhat pleasant while at meals to feel the nice wafts over head. This hotel is very large, 6 stories, lifts constructed frame work of iron, & verandas around every story, but every house has verandas, even the poorest. The head steward of the hotel told me he had 75 waiter boys (every man is called a boy) in the huge dining room. They are all dressed in white & each wears a pig tail, & there are something near 250 servants all told, but their pay is poor: waiters from 14 dollars 27/- to 2 dollars, beginners, per month. Labour is cheap here & all over the East.

[4:8]

All nations are represented here & it being a British possession, no doubt they feel a sense of security. The China people are kept well in subjection. Policemen are plentiful, armed with gun & revolver at night. Passing along the road to Happy Valley, I noticed a fine Wesleyan Church, Revd. C. Bone pastor. I wonder if he was any connection of the late C. Bone, traveller, Stockton, a very warm Wesleyan. Also I saw a government school, & on a notice board, English & Chinese taught free. In the European cemetery I read an inscription, “Johannes Peterson of Flensburg, 13 Feb’y ‘97”. I wonder if any relative of Capt. Peterson. I think he comes from Flensburg. Another most beautiful memorial stone for a doctor, English, & on it the “Masonic Charge”. It was very attractive. Trees are planted in the streets here & make lovely shady avenues. They don’t plant young roots but fetch huge trees complete root & foliage, & dig huge holes, & transplant them, then wrap the whole trunk around with bass & they never fail to live, so you can see a street with magnificent trees before buildings are completed. There’s a fine statue of the Queen on the Praya,[1] & some very magnificent buildings. One now being erected has some splendid large blocks of granite, & well masoned. I just thought how much father would have appreciated viewing these blocks[2], & the men work with very crude tools, surprising how they achieve such good work, but time is little or no object. Then coolies drag or carry these blocks. You’ll see 20 coolies carrying one stone. [4:9] It’s marvellous what these coolies can do. Yesterday I passed 4 carrying a big barrel of Youngers Allod Ale & one day a similar cask of McEwen’s Edinbro’ Ale. It’s amusing to see the Chinee carrying his bit of food home, always on a string, a fish head or tail, a chicken gizzard, or head & thropple,[3] a leg of a bird. You can get any cut of the smallest bird. Everything seems saleable. You can have a roast pig or any cut. I was amused to see these shops, all open fronts, but to see the Chinaman carrying his “bit” home would make you laugh, & every where are vendors of the most, to us, uninviting morsels & drinks & fruits, & well they are patronised, & about where the coal storages are, thousands of men & women employed, carrying in & out, there are these vendors. I suppose these coolies just feed from the sellers & every thing is carried with the stick across the shoulders behind the neck, & the baskets swing from the end. Yesterday I noticed women carrying bricks, 18 on each end, in a kind of cane cage, not basket, & these up hills. They do toil, & seem the beasts of burden here. Everything is coolie labour, even street rolling. Quantities of coolies are no object, & women break the road stones, all sitting. Also women tailors sitting & sewing amongst these coolie throngs. While resting for food, they get their bit tailoring done. The band plays on Friday nights at the officers’ mess not far away from hotel. The cheery sparrow, & the same little sprightly fellow as at home, is here everywhere & chirps away. Barbars [sic] do their business on the streets, while some have shops, & all seem well employed, this is in the Chinese quarters, & they seem to be very particular. [4:10] Their ears & nostrils are even shaved, very little razors, then the head is shaved, all but a basin patch at back & pig tail platted [sic] therefrom. I saw some having their armpits shaved to[o]. I had a look into the cathedral. It’s a very nice interior, maybe I told you, as this was last Sunday morning in passing to the gardens. I stopped my chair man awhile. Soldiers go at 8:30 till about 9:30, band plays, & they parade before dismissing.

Well, Mr. Adamson has had an anniversary, & last Sunday 12 months was his first day as minister, & well I do remember it. I hope the day was memorialised, if only by a reference to it. Now I shall close this portion of my journal, & get all posted. Mails leave every Saturday. I shall look forward to getting letters at Sydney. There I hope to be about the 12 or 13 June, so when you receive this, you may, all being well, reckon that I have been in Australia a week or more. The climate will be genial to me. It will be their winter, but, of course, nothing like our season at home.

Kiss my Comely for me & tell him I will be so pleased when I see him again. My kindest remembrances to all friends. Tell Mr. Leask the Captain said he was going to write him while at Canton. I shan’t see him again as he won’t be back till tomorrow some time, however, I will leave him a note at their office wishing him goodbye.

Love to you all.

[4:11]

[1] Portuguese name (imported via Macau) for a harbourside avenue – the “Praya.”

[2] Andrew Whitehead was a stone mason

[3] Throat or windpipe.