some way with me
up the street to
the h a n d s ome
doorway of h i s
house, wi t h i ts
carved front and
fantastic e a v e s ,
and b e g s me
t o e n ter . In
the narrow front-
verandah, open
to the s t r e e t ,
bales of cotton are
piled high against
the wall, and a
tired and dusty
t r a v e l l e r from
China is taking his
ease. Passing in
through the first
room, I :enter a
YO N AN N E SE , . C O U r t ° P e n t0 t h e
sky,' and arched
over at intervals with roses. To come in here is to step
into another and more delightful world, from the blazing
thoroughfare without. Beyond it is the reception-room,
with its lacquered furniture, and its pictures hung upon
the walls. _ One of these is a portrait done by a
Rangoon photographer; another is a screen painted in
water-colours, an exquisite study of pink flowers drooping
196
TH E PORCH
