ld us that an extraordinary amount of
ticking is going on, and now that our eyes have become accustomed to
the light, we can see numerous clocks on brackets and tables; these are
of all sorts and sizes, including a 2s. 11d. "Bee" clock, cuckoo clocks,
and even one large "grandfather." In between and about them, on the
floor and on the shelves, are lamps large and lamps small, some brass,
some china, and some glass!

The clocks are all going hard, ticking away as if they were running a
race to see which could get ahead of the other. It is a funny medley!
The monks are lazy enough and pass half their days asleep, but if they
keep all these clocks wound up someone must have something to do. These
are all offerings, and the more the better; no monk can ever get enough
lamps or clocks to satisfy him!

We pass down and out into the courtyard, and all the monks follow us in
a body and gently edge us toward some ponds or tanks where fat tortoises
lie on the banks or float lazily in the stagnant water.

There is a man sitting on the side selling balls of rice and bits of
bread. Just as we come up a graceful Burmese woman buys a ball and
throws it into the water. In an instant what looks like a voracious army
of huge spiders floats up from below and attacks it, and as the ball of
rice dissolves and falls apart every grain disappears. Looking more
closely we see that they are not spiders at all, but a curious kind of
fish with long feelers growing out all round his mouth and nose. As he
thrusts up his mouth to the surface, with all the feelers wriggling, the
rest of his body is unseen, and the appearance is exactly that of a
round spider with wriggling legs. Buy a bit of crust and see the fish
dart at it and simply tear it to pieces; they scramble at it from all
sides, pushing and nibbling, and in less time than you could imagine
every crumb is gone!

[Illustration: THE GOLDEN PAGODA.]

The woman is laughing, and we laugh back at her. She is short and very
neat, with her shining black hair coiled round her head and secured by
two big pins, while a dainty spray of flower falls down on one side. Her
face looks quite light coloured, for it is thickly covered with a kind
of soft yellow powder, and she has a brilliant gauzy scarf across her
little white jacket and falling down over her tight rose-pink silk
skirt. As she walks away with a curious shuffle we see that she has on
the quaintest shoes, with red velvet caps and no heels;