1 6 The Gardens of the Sun. [ch. ii. 



are you will hear a gentle tap at the door, or hearing it 

 opened very cautiously, you turn suddenly, and are 

 startled by a dusky apparition in an enormous white 

 turban. It is an itinerant Ivling, 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 oxitside into the main thoroughfares you see 

 a strange motley crowd. The markets are full to over- 

 flowing 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 an} r 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 t} T pe 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 



