has
the largest dry dock in the world. Its bund is not so imposing as that
of Hongkong, but it has more public squares and its government buildings
are far more handsome. As Hongkong owes much of its splendid
architecture and its air of stability to Sir Paul Chator, so Singapore
owes its spacious avenues, its fine buildings, its many parks, its
interesting museum and its famous botanical gardens to Sir Stamford
Raffles, one of the British empire-builders who have left indelibly
impressed on the Orient their genius for founding cities and
constructing great public enterprises. Yet, Singapore, with far more
business than Manila, is destitute of a proper sewer system, and the
streets in its native quarters reek with foul odors.

The feature of Singapore that first impresses the stranger is the
variety of races seen in any of the streets, and this continues to
impress him so long as he remains in the city. My stay in Singapore was
four days, due to the fact that it was necessary to wait here for the
departure of the British West India Company's steamer for Rangoon and
Calcutta. In jinrikishas and pony carts I saw all quarters of the town,
and my wonder grew every day at the remarkable show of costumes
presented by the different races. One day, late in the afternoon, I sat
down on a coping of the wall that surrounds a pretty park on Orchard
road, and in the space of a half hour watched the moving show that
passed by. At this hour all Singapore takes its outing to the Botanical
Gardens, and one may study the people who have leisure and money.

The favorite rig is still the victoria drawn by high-stepping horses,
with coachman and postilion, but the automobile is evidently making
rapid strides in popular favor, despite the fact that the heavy, humid
air makes the odor of gasoline cling to the roadway. A high-class Arab,
with his keen, intellectual face, rides by with a bright Malay driving
the machine. Then comes a fat and prosperous-looking Parsee in his
carriage, followed by a rich Chinese merchant arrayed in spotless white,
seated in a motor car, his family about him, and some relative or
servant at the wheel. Along moves a rickshaw with an East Indian woman,
the sun flashing on the heavy gold rings in her ears, while a carriage
follows with a pretty blonde girl with golden hair, seated beside her
Chinese ayah, or nurse. A score of young Britons come next in rickshaws,
some carrying tennis racquets, and others reading book