quite certain that the curtain will descend
presently and that you will have to put on your hat and go home.

From the center of the great central court rises the famous Silver
Pagoda. It takes its name from its floor, thirty-six feet wide and one
hundred and twenty long, which is covered with pure silver. When the
sun's rays seep through the interstices of the carving it leaps into a
brilliancy that is blinding. On the high walls of the room are depicted
in startling colors, scenes from the life of Buddha and realistic
glimpses of hell, for your Cambodian artist is at his best in
portraying scenes of horror. The mural decorations of the Silver Pagoda
would win the unqualified approval of an oldtime fire-and-brimstone
preacher. Rearing itself roofward from the center of the room is an
enormous pyramidal altar, littered with a heterogeneous collection of
offerings from the devout. At its apex is a so-called Emerald
Buddha--probably, like its fellow in Bangkok, of translucent
jade--which is the guardian spirit of the place. But at one side of the
altar stands the chief treasure of the temple--a great golden Buddha
set with diamonds. The value of the gold alone is estimated at not far
from three-quarters of a million dollars; at the value of the jewels
one can only guess. It was made by the order of King Norodom, the
brother and predecessor of the present ruler, the whole amazing
edifice, indeed, being a monument into which that monarch poured his
wealth and ambition. Ranged about the altar are glass cases containing
the royal treasures--rubies, sapphires, emeralds and diamonds of a size
and in a profusion which makes it difficult to realize that they are
genuine. It is a veritable cave of Al-ed-Din. The covers of these cases
are sealed with strips of paper bearing the royal cypher--nothing
more. They have never been locked nor guarded, yet nothing has ever
been stolen, for King Sisowath is to his subjects something more than a
ruler; he is venerated as the representative of God on earth. For a
Cambodian to steal from him would be as unthinkable a sacrilege as for
a Roman Catholic to burglarize the apartments of the Pope. And should
their religious scruples show signs of yielding to temptation, why,
there are the paintings on the walls to warn them of the torments
awaiting them in the hereafter. It struck me, however, that the Silver
Pagoda offers a golden, not to say a jeweled opportunity to an
enterprising American burg