are you will hear a gentle tap at the door, or hearing it
opened very cautiously, you turn suddenly, and are
startled hy a dusky apparition in an enormous white
turban. It is an itinerant Kling, or Hindoo Figaro, who
seeing you are one of the new arrivals by yesterday’s
mail, would like to shave you, or cut your hair, at a
charge of half a dollar.
Strolling outside into the main thoroughfares you see
a strange motley crowd. The markets are full to overflowing
with edibles of all kinds; meat, fish, vegetables,
and fruit lie about in glorious profusion. Here a heap of
fresh fish of the most vivid colours, there a pile of yellow
pine-apples or bright scarlet chilies, oranges, pomoloes,
mangosteen and rambutan, Chinese long beans, fresh
green lettuces and young onions, tomatoes, and the
hundred and one elements of native cookery, which are
perfectly unintelligible to any but native eyes. Chinese
coolies coming in from the interior of the island laden
with fruit and vegetables, or other commodities. Sleek
fat-faced celestials in black jackets, loose white trousers,
and white European felt hats, taking their morning’s
stroll, and in every doorway gaunt-featured Chinese
artizans of the tailor and shoemaker type sit or stand
enjoying the cool fresh air and their morning’s whiff of
tobacco at the same time. The Chinese predominate,
but you will find dusky spider-limbed Klings and the
more compact little brown Malays fairly represented.
You will notice gharries coming into town laden "with
Chinese traders, and other vehicles bring in the European
storekeepers, agents, clerks, &c. You return about eight
o’clock, and have a bath, and then dress for breakfast.
As you sit in the verandah or open basement awaiting
the gong for breakfast being struck, various itinerant
traders, generally Klings or Chinese, try to tempt you
with their wares, for which they ask about five times as
much as they are worth, or could be bought for in
London. Japanese and Chinese fans, slippers, cabinets,
lacquer ware, and carved ivory goods, all of second or
third rate value, form their stock in trade in general,
while some offer gold brocade worked for slippers or
smoking-caps, crape handkerchiefs and shawls, or Indian
■embroidery, and even socks and white handkerchiefs of
cheap European make.
Of course, to a new arrival, everything is strange, and
not the least perplexing is the Babel of language on all
hands. English, Dutch, German, Chinese, Javanese,
Hindustani, Spanish, Portuguese, and Malay, the latter
by far the most general—the lingua franca which all use
in common. At last, bang ! bang!! bang!!! goes the
gong, and breakfast is ready exactly at 9 a .m . There is
no ceremony. A little regiment,—an awkward squad
rather,—of Chinese “ boys ” hand the dishes in turn.
As a rule, everything is well cooked, and there is variety
enough for eveiybody. Beef-steaks and mutton-chops,
one or two well-made curries and rice, eggs and bacon,
cold ham, boiled eggs, salads, vegetables, and plenty of
fresh fruit. Coffee or tea is not so much in favour here
in the East as at home, bottled Bass, claret, or Norwegian
beer, being preferred instead. After a long morning’s
walk, however, scarcely any beverage is so grateful
as an accompaniment to the post-prandial cigar as is a
cup of freshly-roasted coffee. Breakfast over, the real
business of the day commences. All the large stores and
godowns are opened at 8.30 or 9.0 a .m . , and from 10
until 12.30 everyone is alert and busy. Gharries are
whisking about in all directions. The fattest and sleekest
and richest of Chinese merchants arrive in their more or
less imposing carriages, boats and sampans are going to or