ld four, but two is enough. Ordinarily the driver
sits in front, and the "fare" in the more luxurious seat behind.
Thus weighted the country-breds go at a very smart pace; nor is
there any complaint to be made in respect of the drivers. They are
generally very civil, and their charges are very moderate.
I was told a story which illustrates the docility of the sadoe
drivers, and the cleverness with which they can trace and identify
their "fares."
An English officer from Singapore, whom we will call Brown, was
visiting Batavia, and had occasion, in the course of his visit, to
drive in a sadoe from the old town to a friend's house in
Weltevreden. For some reason or other he became annoyed with the
driver, and, having ejected him, proceeded to drive himself. As it
was night, he soon became entangled in the maze of streets. At last
he reached the large open space called the King's Plain. He was now
close to his destination. The only difficulty was to get rid of the
sadoe. In order to do this he drove into the middle of the plain.
He waited until the horse began to graze quietly, and then "made
tracks" as quickly as might be for his friend's compound.
Ultimately he returned to his hotel. The first thing Brown saw,
when he got up the next morning, was sadoe, driver, and horse
waiting outside his verandah in the courtyard. He grew pale with
thoughts of the police; but no, the driver only wanted his fare,
which was two florins. Having received this, he retired smiling and
contented.
There was a crowd of these sadoes waiting outside the station at
Batavia, in one of which I made my way to the Hotel der
Nederlanden.
Batavia may be divided (like all Gaul) into three parts. First,
there is the business quarter, the oldest, where the houses are
tall and built in the style still prevalent in the warm countries
of Europe, with balconies and verandahs and widely projecting
eaves, and where the streets are narrow. Then there is the Chinese
Campong, which, with the adjacent streets, occupies the central
portion of the town, containing the bulk of the population closely
packed in their curious dwellings. And, lastly, there is
Weltevreden, the Dutch town, where the officials, the military,
and the merchants reside. The town is traversed from end to end by
the railway, which passes through from Tanjong Priok to Buitenzorg
and Bandong; and by the tramway, which runs from the town gate in
the north to the statue of Meester Cornelis
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