to remain and witness it. A description of the Paradeniza
gardens would be like attempting to picture to one's imagination the
Garden of Eden. The two hundred and fifty varieties of palms, the
bamboo, one hundred feet high and growing in clumps one hundred and
fifty feet in circumference, give some idea of the tropical growth. We
see spicy cinnamon, the chinchona, the upas tree, the latter bearing to
a great height its lofty head, not unlike a palm in growth, with its
bark gray and spotted like a snake. It is not indigenous to the soil,
but comes from Java, where its dense groves are called the "Valley and
Shadow of Death," and when I stood under its shade without knowing the
tree, I will confess a superstitious fear came over me when I was told
by our frightened guide that I was in danger. The candle tree produces a
fruit shaped like a candle, but not edible. The traveler's palm gives
the thirsty traveler a refreshing drink when an incision in the stem of
its leaves is made. Cocaine grows in profusion, while alongside, coffee
and tea plants and nutmegs and other spices grow apace. The Jacqueminot
and La France roses grow to the size of saucers, while the orchids
fasten themselves like grape vines over wooden props, beautiful and
varied in color, and are native to the jungles, brought therefrom and
sold by coolies to the traveler for a pittance. The governor's palace is
beautifully located. From its windows we gaze upon a beautiful river,
while the grounds are watered from the spray of fountains. The palace
was unoccupied and we were permitted to go through its spacious rooms
and halls. The drives all about Kandy are fascinating, and are made more
so by now and then a temple hid almost from sight, but of interest when
visited, while the industrious weaver of straw mats, a yard and a half
in length and a yard wide, meets us along the way, urging us to buy--a
temptation we cannot resist, although we wonder what we shall do with
them when we get them. But adieux must be made to Ceylon, with its spicy
breezes, for the "Steamer Pekin" lies at anchor off Colombo which is to
bear us over 1,300 miles to Calcutta, the voyage only broken by a short
stay at Madras, where a brief visit is long enough, for the heat and
dust are oppressive. We see the juggernaut car lying in disuse on the
roadside under a temporary covering of a palm thatched roof. A most
cumbersome vehicle, the wheels of which are so closely set together that
one can