double line of stalls, back to back, each stall separated
from its neighbour by a row of bales or boxes : O J
and in the small square spaces between, the stallholders
have their habitation. Here at all hours you
see them seated on gay carpets, reclining on soft quilts;
slumbering under silken tartans, flirting, gossiping,
smoking contentedly, or playing animated chess. A
Burmese game of chess is a unique entertainment.
Everything pertaining to it is of massive proportions.
The chessboard is of solid wood nearly two feet square ;
the squares look gigantic; the pieces, rudely carved,
are made to stand hard usage, for the Burman throws
a curious vigour into his: play, , each piece being brought
down on the board'with a sounding whack. In addition
to the players, there is always a group o f ' friends; and
self-constituted advisers round the chessboard. Each
of these takes, a keen interest in the game, and pours
forth his advice with great eagerness. The player,
with an amiable, superior smile, plays his own game,
and when this is at variance with proffered advice, each
move is followed by long-drawn sounds of pessimistic
regret and resolute head-shaking. One or two spectators
who do not understand the game look on in silence,
smoking their long green cheroots in a manner suggestive
b f deep and concentrated thought. The game,
in short, is interesting, because there is so much human
interest in it.
The flats in tow of a cargo-steamer are occupied as
a rule by a poorer class of stall-holders than those in
the steamer itself. Silks, cotton goods, fur coats, socks,
186
linen, china, pottery, ironware, , and the gewgaws of
vanity here' give: way to the necessities o f life— to salt
and onions, piles ofi imported flour, molasses in little
rhomboids like" toffy, sugar in crystalline heaps,
baskets bf potatoes, red and yellow chillies, and raw
produce of the most bewildering variety. Most of the
stall-holders here are women. The atmosphere is wholly
different from that on the adjoining steamer, The
curtains are let down, and a soft half-light pervades
the flat. In the dim vista, broken here and there by
bars of light in which the myriad motes riot, women
lie asleep resting against soft flour-bags, or sit chatting in
undertones in small groups. In this way the hours and
weeks pass by, till they grow to years, and in some
cases a lifetime.