twist them into a snood behind the head, a certain quantity
being formed into puffs like bow-knots, and the whole kept together
with long metallic pins, having ornamental heads of brass or silver.
Like the Japanese women, their hair is so arranged as to be very
showy, and they take great pride in its appearance.

This passion for covering their persons with gewgaws is as old with
these people as the ancient city of Anuradhapura, where the same
custom prevailed among the Singhalese two thousand years ago. The
abundance and beauty of the precious stones found in the soil of the
island naturally led to their being mounted and worn by the wealthiest
people. This fashion was imitated, as usual, by the humbler classes to
the very limit of their means. If the latter could not afford the
genuine article, they were obliged, as they are to-day, to be
satisfied with cheap imitations.

The rank and file of the common people, clad in various colors, form a
brilliant panorama in the streets of Colombo on a gala day, mingled
with whom are itinerant exhibitors of legerdemain, snake charmers,
hustling dealers in gewgaws, peddlers of bonbons, native women bearing
baskets of fruit on their heads, and naked Tamil laborers,--living
bronzes,--on their way to the wharves. All phases of life are
represented. An occasional blind and decrepit native is seen, guided
by a small lad, who solicits pennies with which to purchase a little
rice and curry, as the boy says in broken English. The most persistent
beggars of all whom one meets in the thoroughfares are the Buddhist
priests, who extend a dirty brass dish for alms, while mumbling some
unintelligible gibberish. An occasional stranger and some humble
natives respond to his appeals by contributing a few pennies, but the
aggregate of his collection must be very small.

There dashes by us, while we watch the scene, a gay party of English
residents in a four-horse drag, bound to Mount Lavonia. This is a
pleasant resort five or six miles from Colombo, on the coast line,
where there is a very good public house, built originally for a
private residence by a former governor of the island. It stands upon a
promontory some fifty feet in height, which juts out into the sea,
washed on either side by the waves of the Indian Ocean. This hotel is
a conspicuous white building, and forms a familiar landmark for
inward-bound vessels. It is much cooler at Lavonia than at Colombo, as
the location is more open t