In the north the baths are inside the towns, and thus are not so well situated as where they are in the country. The arrangements are, however, almost the same as those I have described, except that incense is burned in each cabin, and in such quantities, that as you enter the thick smoke gets into your eyes and makes them smart and water. The reader will notice that I only speak about warm baths. I must explain that the Chinese do not like cold baths, which they consider to be very bad for the health. It is only the children of people living by the river-sides who take cold baths. Cold water is so generally disliked in China, that lukewarm water is almost always used for washing. We won’t even drink cold water, and that is one of the reasons why tea is so largely used at home, the infusion giving us an excuse for drinking hot water.
Kite-flying, which since the earliest ages has been popular in China, is, without possible contradiction, the game which best exercises the bodies of children. The boy runs back, comes, goes, pulls at the string, winds it up, inhales the fresh air with all his lung-power, and develops his strength and his skill at one and the same time.
In Northern and Central China it is in the spring that this pastime is indulged in; in the south it is in the autumn. Our kites, as a rule, are much larger than those used in Europe, and we designate their sizes by the number of pieces of paper that have been used in their manufacture. Thus we speak of “two-paper,” “three-paper,” and “thirty-two-paper” kites. The last are very much taller than a man.
The form varies very much. Our “paper eagles,” as we call them, are made in every conceivable shape—butterflies, beetles, birds of the most varied sizes and species, monstrous dragons, are all in turn modelled in the manufacture of these charming toys.
The strings vary, according to the size of the kite, in thickness from the finest thread to cord often several millimètres thick. In the season, the sky is clouded with these artificial birds, casting fantastic shadows as they float in the ethereal blue.
It is said that, one day, a player having to absent himself for a moment, tied the string of his kite to the cradle in which his child was sleeping. When he came back he found that his kite had got away, carrying the cradle and the child with it. Neither were ever seen or heard of again.