Such is Rangoon the prosperous, the rising city. To-
catch some of the flavour of its romance one must
leave its villadom and enter its crowded heart, and;
preferably at night. For the night is the time to judge
of an Eastern city.
CH INE SE JOSS-HOUSE
CH A P T E R V
T H E C I T Y A T N IG H T
I "H E sea-breeze blowing up with the tide freshens
X the night, and the streets swarm with a populace
bent on relaxation. All men, and most women, come
out at this hour. The pavements are crowded with
those who minister to the public pleasure— the pineapple
man, with his tray of fruit; the Burmese girl, with
her petty stall of cigars ; the Hindu seller of betel, with
his little mirror, to tempt the glance of the passing
beaux; the lemonade man, with his moving barrow ; the
seller of ice-creams ; the Chinaman under his swaying“
burden of cooked meats and strange luxuries; the
vermicelli man ; the Indian confectioner, with his silver-
coated pyramids of sugar and cream. It is of all crowds
one of the most cosmopolitan. Here the long-coated
Persian, with his air of breeding and dignity, is jostled
by the naked Coringhi, with rings in his nose; the easy
beauty from Japan dashes by in her rickshaw, drawn
by a Chinese coolie ; the exclusive Brahmin finds
himself shoulder to shoulder with a laughing daughter
of the soil, who has never heard of caste, and would
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