Down the road coolies were filing laden with their heavy burdens--a long day's toil before them; rude carts were lumbering past me drawn by oxen and jolting on wheels that were solid but not circular.

Then the mule was brought to me, and we went on through an avenue of trees that were half hidden in showers of white roses, by hedges of roses in full bloom and wayside flowers, daisies and violets, dandelions and forget-me-nots, a pretty sight all fresh and sparkling in the morning sun.
We went on in single file, my two coolies first with their light loads that swung easily from their shoulders, then myself on the mule, and last my stalwart attendant Laohwan with his superior dress, his huge sun hat, his long pipe, and umbrella.

A man of unusual endurance was Laohwan.

The day's journey done--he always arrived the freshest of the party--he had to get ready my supper, make my bed, and look after my mule.

He was always the last to bed and the first to rise.