emember rightly--that when
the English occupy a country the first thing they build is a
custom-house; the first thing the Germans build is a barracks; the
first thing the French build is a railway. As a result of my
observations in Malaysia, however, I am inclined to amend this by
saying that the first thing the English build is a race course. Lord
Cromer was fond of telling how, when he visited Perim, a miserable
little island at the foot of the Red Sea, inhabited by a few Arabs and
many snakes, his guide took him to the top of a hill and pointed out
the race course.

"But what do you want with a race course?" demanded the great
proconsul. "I didn't suppose that there was a four-footed animal on the
island."

The guide reluctantly admitted that, though they had no horses on the
island at the moment, if some were to come, why, there was the race
course ready for them. Though I don't recall having seen more than a
dozen horses in Borneo, the British have been true to their traditions
by building two race courses: one at Sandakan and one at Jesselton. On
the latter is run annually the North Borneo Derby. It is the most
brilliant sporting and social event of the year, the Europeans flocking
into Jesselton from the little trading stations along the coast and
from the lonely plantations in the interior just as their friends back
in England flock to Goodwood and Newmarket and Epsom. The Derby is
always followed by the Hunt Ball. In spite of the fact that there are
at least twenty men to every woman this is always a tremendous success.
It usually ends in everyone getting gloriously drunk.

Almost the only other form of entertainment is provided by a company of
Malay players which makes periodical visits to Sandakan and Jesselton.
Though the actors speak only Malay, this does not deter them from
including a number of Shakesperian plays in their repertoire (imagine
Macbeth being played by a company of piratical-looking Malays in a nipa
hut on the shores of the Sulu Sea!) but they attain their greatest
heights in _Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves_. There are no programmes,
but, in order that the audience may not be left in doubt as to the
identity of the players, the manager introduces the members of his
company one by one. "This is Ali Baba," he announces, leading a fat and
greasy Oriental to the footlights. "This is Fatimah." "These are the
Forty Thieves." When the latter announcement is made four actors stalk
ten times acros