Twelve o'clock and the thoroughfare below still teeming with life.
Peking has something over three millions of population, according to the
records, but, as a matter of fact, no one knows the exact size of the
town as to humanity, for the Chinese live in densely-packed districts,
and there are no census reports given out.
The city is many centuries old. It was a thriving capital three
thousand years before Christ was born and during all the years of war
and starvation and intrigue it continued to grow.
The hardy races from the North, which overran the country and kept a
Tartar on the Chinese throne for centuries, are virile and pertinacious.
It has been the fate of every civilization we know anything about to be
wiped out by hardy races. Rome went down before the Northmen, and
England had its oversea conqueror. Greece and Italy succumbed to the
might of brawny arms, and civilization shrank back for hundreds of
years. So China fell before the men of the mountains, and her records
were destroyed.
As in all large cities, there is a night side to the life of Peking. If
you traverse the streets at night you will find shops which have been
closed all day opening for the trade of the night workers. You will see
people who have slept through all the daylight hours walking through the
streets to their nightly toil. You will see about the same things, only
on a smaller scale, that you see in the daytime.
This night was no different from any other, except that there were more
men who did not appear to have any particular business there lounging
along the streets.
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