On such occasions I made it a practice, when I had finished and was leaving the inn, to turn round and bow gravely to the crowd, thanking them in a few kindly words of English, for the reception they had accorded me.

At the same time I took the opportunity of mentioning that they would contribute to the comfort of future travellers, if only they would pay a little more attention to their table manners.

Then, addressing the innkeeper, I thought it only right to point out to him that it was absurd to expect that one small black cloth should wipe all cups and cup-lids, all tables, all spilt tea, and all dishes, all through the day, without getting dirty.

Occasionally, too, I pointed out another defect of management to the innkeeper, and told him that, while I personally had an open mind on the subject, other travellers might come his way who would disapprove, for instance--he would pardon my mentioning it--of the manure coolie passing through the restaurant with his buckets at mealtime, and halting by the table to see the stranger eat.
When I spoke in this way quite seriously and bowed, those whose eyes met mine always bowed gravely in return.

And for the next hour on the track my men would tell each other, with cackles of laughter, how Mo Shensen, their master, mystified the natives.
From Pupiao we had a pleasant ride over a valley-plain, between hedges of cactus in flower and bushes of red roses, past graceful clumps of bamboo waving like ostrich feathers.