Diving Practice Extraordinary in the East.

In a certain street of Hong-Kong there stands one of those temples in which men devote themselves to the consumption of opium¹, that terrible drug which is said to destroy the natives of the celestial² empire more fatally than “strong drink” does the peoples of the west. In various little compartments⁴ of this temple, many celestials⁵ lay in various conditions of debauch⁶. Among them was a stout⁷ youth of twenty or so. He was in the act of lighting⁸ the little pipe from which the noxious⁹ vapour is inhaled¹⁰. His fat and healthy visage proved that he had only commenced his downward career.

He had scarce drawn¹¹ a single whiff, however, when a burly sailor-like man in an English garb¹² entered the temple, went straight to the compartment³ where our beginner reclined, plucked the pipe from his hand, and dashed it on the ground.

“I know’d ye was here,” said the man, sternly, “an’ I said you was here, an’ sure haven’t I found you here—you spalpeen! You pig-faced bag o’ fat! What d’ee mane by it, Chok-foo? Didn’t I say I’d give you as much baccy as ye could chaw or smoke an ye’d only kape out o’ this place? Come along wid ye!”

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