Peking Revisited:Introductory Chapter Ⅰ In a Peking Garden Chapter Ⅱ How the Court Came back to Peking Chapter Ⅲ Official and Rank Distinctions Chapter Ⅳ An Imperial Funeral Chapter Ⅴ Pekingese Dogs and Gold and Silver Fish Chapter Ⅵ The Western Hills Chapter Ⅶ Round about Our Garden Chapter Ⅷ Seaside Resorts Chapter Ⅸ Imperial Hot Springs and the Ming Tombs Chapter Ⅹ To Kalgan and the Mongolian Grass Land Chapter Ⅺ Among Peking Palaces Chapter Ⅻ The Hsiling,or Western Tombs Chapter ⅩⅢ Lama and Confucian Temples Chapter ⅩⅣ On the Drum and Bell Towers Chapter ⅩⅣ Many Kinds of Temples Chapter ⅩⅥ What Ought to Be Done with the Temple Buildings Chapter ⅩⅦ An Interlude of Reflections Chapter ⅩⅧ Examination Hall and Observatory,Together with Some Chinese Manners and Customs Chapter ⅩⅨ ATale ofTwo Chinese Students ChapterⅩⅩ HowNottoDoItinPeking Chapter ⅩⅩⅠ Five Nations’Soldiers,as Seen in China Chapter ⅩⅩⅡ To Port AJthur
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When I think of Peking now,I still think first of the awful ruts in the
roads and the blinding,choking dust in those parts of the city where
ordinary people live;but each day that impression is weakening,and my
mind is beginning to rest more and more on the fajry-tale-like
kaleidoscope of colour - yellow,green,dark blue,and yet more beautiful
azure tiles and bricks in the enchanting regions reserved by the
Imperial family for themselves. The Peking station,all dust and
rickshas,standing as it does in the wide sandy roadway between the
Temple of Heaven and the Hall of Agriculture - every one looking for
seats in the train,and watching over luggage,for stealing is
contagious,and people,having once begun,do not know how to stop.And then
a 1ittle tramp,tramp,and the soft sweet strains of a military
band,“Nearer,my God,to Thee!Nearer to Thee!’’and there under the Stars
and Stripes something heavy six soldiers are laying on a luggage
van.Yesterday evening my friends heard the outcry for a doctor at the
camp.A man had fallen from his horse,they were told,but attached no
importance to it at the time.Perhaps he had longed to go home to the
States.This morning early his body is going home.There are Japanese and
cock-tailed Bersaglieri and the other soldiers of many nations all
pressing forward to watch the one who is going home.That is the way he
is going home after a11.Poor soldiers!They suffer and they toil,many of
them more heroes at heart than we can quite realise,and that is the end
of it all in this world!And now again what is this at the Peking
station?A clanking of chains!Men shackled together,and shouting
shamelessly to cover their shame:“Look at the pride of the American
army!’’They have been caught red-handed plundering,and are being sent
home too,after another fashion. Ah me!Better dead!Better dead! But the
Americans are determined to repress looting.They alone policed their
quarter in Peking.Yet each nation,after its fashion,is trying to keep
its men in order And is it nothing that during nine days in Peking and
two in Tientsin,and out of doors from morning to night,I never saw a
man the worse for drink,never met anything but the most respectful and
kind courtesy from the soldiery of eight nations,nor even saw one man
illtreating the vanquished CIhinese?