sea, and a wind that follows fast." To forget the swell I
take up a sensational novel, "The Old Love and the New," but that
influence is not enough to drive away mal de mer, that soon gets the
better of the passengers and drives us to our cabins. Four days of
sailing brings us to Ceylon's shores, where we fail to catch the spicy
breezes of which we have so often sung. We are on deck early to realize
the descriptions given of the southern coast of this island, then turn
northward and round into the harbor of Colombo. The hotels and
government buildings are located along the quay. The forest of cocoanut
palms and the lofty peaks of the mountain form an impressive background.
Ceylon is two-thirds as large as Ireland and is in possession of the
English. Some English writer has said "that in the train of England's
conquests comes the broadest, wisest and most tolerant statesmanship the
world has ever witnessed. To be humbled by her is to be exalted by
her." There seemed a good feeling between the natives and their rulers.
The Oriental Hotel swarms with people of all nations. Breakfast is
served in your room, consisting of coffee, toast, fruit and sweets.
Luncheon is a hasty meal, but dinner to the foreigner, served at 7 or 8
p. m., seems thoroughly enjoyable. The Englishman, dressed in black
trousers, broad sash-belts of black or red silk, which seems to make
more pronounced the smooth shirt bosom, with a spotless white
pea-jacket, forms a refreshing costume. Ladies almost invariably are in
low-neck black dresses, with a broad piece of white lace which droops
gracefully as a bertha, with bright flowers in their hair, while a band
of stringed instruments makes the scene enlivening. The broad arcade
from which you enter the dining hall is after dinner filled to
overflowing with guests seated around small tables, where brandy and
coffee is served, and is the harvest time of the tradesmen, who are
allowed to spread before you their embroideries, laces, jewels and
baskets of curious workmanship and bright colors, together with
elephants of ebony and ivory. Close to the entrance of the hotel are
jugglers with their baskets of cobras, whose poisonous fangs have been
extracted; together with the dwarfed trees which miraculously grow
before your eyes, and divers tricks are performed to entertain the
stranger and to earn for themselves a scant livelihood. The Singhalese
and Tamil women, men and children, whose features seemed carved in