h-west monsoon.

We tasted many fruits new to us--delicious mangosteens, lacas, and
other fruits whose names I could not ascertain. Lastly, we tried a
durian, _the_ fruit of the East, as it is called by people who live
here, and having got over the first horror of the onion-like odour we
found it by no means bad.

The fish market is the cleanest, and best arranged, and sweetest
smelling that I ever went through. It is situated on a sort of open
platform, under a thick thatched roof, built out over the sea, so that
all the refuse is easily disposed of and washed away by the tide. From
the platform on which it stands, two long jetties run some distance
out into the sea, so that large fishing boats can come alongside and
discharge their cargoes from the deep at the door of the market with
scarcely any exposure to the rays of the tropical sun.

The poultry market is a curious place. On account of the intense heat
everything is brought alive to the market, and the quacking, cackling,
gobbling, and crowing that go on are really marvellous. The whole
street is alive with birds in baskets, cages, and coops, or tied by
the leg and thrown down anyhow. There were curious pheasants and
jungle-fowl from Perak, doves, pigeons, quails, besides cockatoos,
parrots, parrakeets, and lories. They are all very tame and very
cheap; and some of the scarlet lories, looking like a flame of fire,
chatter in the most amusing way. I have a cage full of tiny parrots
not bigger than bullfinches, of a dark green colour, with dark red
throats and blue heads, yellow marks on the back, and red and yellow
tails. Having bought these, everybody seemed to think that I wanted an
unlimited supply of birds, and soon we were surrounded by a chattering
crowd, all with parrots in their hands and on their shoulders. It was
a very amusing sight, though rather noisy, and the competition reduced
the prices very much. Parrakeets ranged from twelve to thirty cents
apiece, talking parrots and cockatoos from one to five dollars. At
last the vendors became so energetic that I was glad to get into the
gharry again, and drive away to a flower shop, where we bought some
gardenias for one penny a dozen, beautifully fresh and fragrant, but
with painfully short stalks.

Towards the end of the south-west monsoon, little native open boats
arrive from the islands 1,500 to 3,000 miles to the southward of
Singapore. Each has one little tripod mast. The whole family live on
boar