t for the town, which is a
long three miles off. We shan't have time to do more than look round.
The road runs by the docks at Singapore, which are enormous and extend
all along the coast up to the town. On the way we pass men of all
nations. There are natives of India, companies of Sikhs, Madrassees like
Ramaswamy,--who is well on his way back to his master now,--Cingalese,
Tamils with frizzy heads, little Japanese ladies in rickshaws, plenty of
Chinese, and many Malays. The Malays are yellow rather than brown; they
have just that slight narrowing of the eyes which tells they are akin to
the Chinese, and they are, as a rule, well-made neat men, wearing loose
blue skirts, with orange or red sashes, and large hats; some of them
have short white jackets which are the universal top garments out here,
when there are any at all.

The town itself is astonishingly well built; electric trams run
everywhere, and there are splendid public buildings. As we trot along in
our rickshaws we enter a large square. Do you see the name up there?
Raffles Square. Sir Stamford Raffles was the man who made Singapore. In
his time, the first part of the nineteenth century, Great Britain was
very anxious to give away everything she had in the East to the first
person who asked for it, as she did not want to fight about it, and
could not see what use it could be, for the idea of Imperialism and
Empire had not been developed. The Dutch asked largely and always got
what they asked for, whether they had a right to it or not; this enraged
Raffles, who happened to be out here, and so he looked around and
noticed that the island of Singapore was placed in a wonderful position
for trade, that it commanded the Straits, and that no one as yet had
made any claim on it. He settled down here and put up the British flag.
It was years before his country finally decided to acknowledge him and
not give his territory up to the Dutch, who immediately asked for it;
but in the end they did, and now here stands Singapore, a mighty city
with miles of docks, a colossal trade, and a teeming population. There
is a statue to Sir Stamford Raffles, as it is right there should be. The
Botanical Gardens are worth seeing, and we can get tiffin in one of the
palatial hotels, and then we must go back to the ship.

[Illustration: A VILLAGE BUILT ON PILES, SUMATRA.

LITTLE BROWN BOYS PLAY ABOUT AND FISH.]

The scene in the bay as we depart is most lovely; ships of every nation