94 



THE PALACE. 



strays; there is also a rude lock-up, for ware- 

 housing the more valuable goods. A small ad- 

 jacent square shows an unfinished and dilapi- 

 dated row of arches, the fragments of a new 

 Custom House. It was begun 26 or 27 years 

 ago (1857), but Jayaram, the benevolent and 

 superstitious Hindu who farmed the customs it 

 is said for $150,000 per annum, had waxed fat 

 under the matting, and was not sure that he 

 would thrive as much within stone and lime. 

 This is a general idea throughout the nearer 

 East. The people are full of saws and instances 

 concerning the downfall of great men who have 

 exposed themselves to the shafts of misfortune 

 by enlarging their gates or by building for them- 

 selves two-storeyed abodes. But the hat it seems 

 has lately got the better of the turban, and there 

 will be a handsome new building, half paid by 

 the Prince and half by his farmer of Customs. 



An open space now leads us to the finest 

 building in the city, the palace of the late Say- 

 yid, which we visit in a future chapter. I may 

 remark that it is the workhouse style, though 

 hardly so ignoble as that of H. Hellenic Ma- 

 jesty; but at Zanzibar the windows are far 

 higher up, and the jail-like aspect is far more 

 pronounced. Beyond it commences the east-end, 



