160 A COLLECTING TRIP 
half long enough tucked into them; the pillows are 
like the mattresses, only on a smaller and harder 
scale. No other covering is known, such as sheet or 
blanket and if you ask for one you are given a thin 
blanket saturated with camphor and covered witn 
green mould. The floor is of cement with a rattan 
matting thrown over it. Every evening one of the 
servants, a barefooted Javanese man, brings a zumbler 
with an inch or so of cocoanut oil and a tiny tin and 
cork arrangement for a floating wick, and this you 
use for a night lamp. Like the arrangement at the 
Cascapedia River, basins, ete., are emptied out of the 
door or window, whichever is the most handy. The 
bath room is a very small room, 10x10, covered with 
mould and slime, with a barrel and dipper. You are 
expected to ladle the water out of the barrel and 
pour it over you. As I am speaking of washing, I shall 
say a word or two about the dhobie man (dhobie 
means washer.) He is a terror; the clothes destroyer 
and the buttonhole exterminator of India was an 
artist compared to this creature. All the clothes have 
to be mended every time he returns them. I live a 
good part of the time out on our back piazza, which 
is small but comfortable, with a view fit for the most 
fastidious gods. Mt. Salak, a huge green mountain, 
is in the back ground and deep down below is a 
rushing stream, where every minute of the day you 
can see natives bathing, and thousands of waving 
palms swaying to and fro like ostrich plumes. Across 
the stream is a tiny street and village, the houses of 
which are made out of woven rattan with banana 
leaf roofs. They are certainly picturesque and pretty. 
1 am always amused watching the dhobie men do 
