The Chinese population has been estimated at 1,250,000; but the guess is much too conservative in the opinion of the stranger just arrived in Canton, for there seem to be more yellow men within the ancient city than in all the rest of the round world.
Chinese here, Chinese there, Chinese yonder — so many Chinese that the impressionable traveler in Canton dreams o' night of shuffling, felt-clad feet, oblique eyes, saffron faces, singsong voices, cotton trousers, and voluminous shirts; not to mention the clash of Chinese cymbals and the wailing of mourners in the frequent funeral processions and other common sights in this river port of South China, in the Province of Kwangtung.
Canton is so old that even the native custodians of local tradition have lost count of the years since it was founded. Some of the ancient coolies crouching near the wharves and sunning their wrinkled skins look as if they might be able to tell the age of their city; but a whimsical question elicits only a request for alms, mumbled with a mouth which has lost its teeth, so that the owner meets with difficulty in chewing even the small portions of food needed to keep the spark of life aglow in his shaky body.
Canton is one of the most important trade centers of China, being the funnel through which the exports of Kwangtung and Kwangsi provinces are poured in the holds of waiting ships and carried to the foreign markets.
Scores of thousands of coolies are engaged in the task of handling the great volume of trade which comes through Canton. They toil the long
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