d to the
shore, the homes of thousands of river people. This business of
transportation on the water is in the hands of the Malays, who are most
expert boatmen. It is a pleasure to watch one of these men handle a huge
cargo boat. With his large oar he will scull rapidly, while his
assistant uses a long pole.

One of the sights of Singapore is the Botanical Gardens, about three and
one-half miles from town. The route is along Orchard road and Tanglin
road, two beautiful avenues that are lined with comfortable bungalows of
Europeans, and magnificent mansions of Chinese millionaires. The gardens
occupy a commanding position overlooking the surrounding country, and
they have been laid out with much skill. The drives are bordered with
ornamental trees from all lands. The most beautiful of all the palms is
the Traveler's tree from Madagascar. It is a palm the fronds of which
grow up like a regular fan. At a little distance it looks like a
peacock's tail spread to the full extent. It is so light, graceful and
feathery that it satisfies the eye as no other palm does. Of other palms
there are legion, from the Mountain Cabbage palm of the West Indies to
endless varieties from Malay, Madagascar and western Africa.

CHARACTERISTIC SIGHTS IN BURMA'S LARGEST CITY

One of the characteristic sights of Rangoon is that of the big Siamese
elephants piling teak in the lumber yards along Rangoon river. It is the
same sight that Kipling pictured in the lines in his perfect ballad,
_Mandalay_, which an Englishman who knows his Burma well says is "the
finest ballad in the world, with all the local color wrong."

These lumber yards are strung along the river, but are easily reached by
an electric car. Several are conducted by Chinese, but the finest yard
is in charge of the government. At the first Chinese yard was the
largest elephant in the city, a huge animal fifty-five years old, with
great tusks admirably fitted for lifting large logs. A dozen tourists
were grouped about the yard in the early morning, for these elephants
are only worked in the morning and evening hours, when it is cool. An
East Indian coolie was mounted on his back, or rather just back of his
ears, with his legs dangling loose. With his naked feet he indicated
whether the elephant was to go to the right or left, and when he wished
to emphasize an order he hit the beast a blow upon the head with a heavy
steel rod.

Much of the work which this elephant did was spectac