The question of “face” is always merely one of theory, never of fact, and the principles that govern “face” and its attainment were wholly beyond my apprehension.  “I shall probably be more concerned in saving my life than in saving my face,” I thought.

Therefore it was that when I reached a place called Fu-to-gwan I discarded all superfluities of dress, and strode forward, just at that time in the early morning when the sun was gilding the dewdrops on the hedgerows with a grandeur which breathed encouragement to the traveler, in a flannel shirt and flannel pants—­a terrible breach of foreign etiquette, no doubt, but very comfortable to one who was facing the first eighty li he had ever walked on China’s soil.  My three coolies—­the typical Chinese coolie of Szech’wan, but very good fellows with all their faults—­were to land me at Sui-fu, 230 miles distant (some 650 li), in seven days’ time.  They were to receive four hundred cash per man per day, were to find themselves, and if I reached Sui-fu within the specified time I agreed to kumshaw them to the extent of an extra thousand.[F] They carried, according to the arrangement, ninety catties apiece, and their rate of pay I did not consider excessive until I found that each man sublet his contract for a fourth of his pay, and trotted along light-heartedly and merry at my side; then I regretted that I had not thought twice before closing with them.

It is probable that the solidity of the great paved highways of China have been exaggerated.  I have not been on the North China highways, but have had considerable experience of them in Western China, Szech’wan and Yuen-nan particularly, and have very little praise to lavish upon them.  Certain it is that the road to Sui-fu does not deserve the nice things said about it by various travelers.  The whole route from Chung-king to Sui-fu, paved with flagstones varying in width from three to six or seven feet—­the only main road, of course—­is creditably regular in some places, whilst other portions, especially over the mountains, are extremely bad and uneven.  In some places, I could hardly get along at all, and my boy would call out as he came along in his chair behind me—­

“Master, I thinkee you makee catch two piecee men makee carry.  This b’long no proper road.  P’raps you makee bad feet come.”

And truly my feet were shamefully blistered.

One had to step from stone to stone with considerable agility.  In places bridges had fallen in, nobody had attempted to put them into a decent state of repair—­though this is never done in China—­and one of the features of every day was the wonderful fashion in which the mountain ponies picked their way over the broken route; they are as sure-footed as goats.