iness men.
And the ladies--well, they may be duchesses or dressmakers no longer
content with traveling "on the Continong"; nobody cares which. If they
are very well gowned, probably they are the latter.

An army of waiters clad in spotless and snowy uniforms with red facings
and shining buttons set before you dishes you never heard of. Some are
satisfying in the extreme; but these waiters, can they be described as
in uniform? True, their garments are alike, but the head-gear is of
infinite variety. According to caste or nationality each proclaims
himself. But look once more; there _is_ uniformity, for all are
barefooted.

[Illustration: A HIGH PRIEST OF BUDDHA]

Wonderful fellows these Easterns. The native hotel band, led by a
wandering European, plays Sousa's marches and "Hiawatha," yes, even
"Tammany," with accuracy; and the cooks prepare dishes with French
names, make _vin blanc_ and _Hollandaise_ sauces worthy of Delmonico or
Ritz, and this without permitting the palate to guide them. If they
tasted food concocted for Christians a million kinds of perdition might
be their punishment. Music may be mechanical, as it is claimed to be,
but not cooking. How do the gastronomic experts of pagan Asia acquire
their skill?

Considering that the Ceylon capital is only four hundred miles north of
the equator, the heat is never extremely oppressive. One's energies
there, nevertheless, are not what they are farther north or at higher
elevations. Kandy, the ancient up-country capital, is cooler, and Nuwara
Eliya, in the mountains, is actually cold at night. When white people do
anything in Colombo--work, attend church, play bridge, or billiards--a
native keeps them moderately comfortable with swinging _punkahs_. Some
hotels and residential bungalows have discarded punkahs for mechanical
fans; but the complaint is that the electricity costs more than the
_punkah-wallah_--the fan-boy of the East. "Ah, yes; but your wallah
frequently falls asleep at his work," you remark to the resident. "True,
and your electricity frequently fails us," is the reply.

Pear-shaped Ceylon, separated from India by only fifty miles of water,
is three fourths the size of Ireland, and its population 3,600,000.
Seventy-five per cent. of the people are Cingalese, and their language
a dialect harking back to Sanskrit. The Cingalese are mostly Buddhists,
with a sprinkling of Roman Catholics, the latter religion having been
left in the land by its one-tim