n style and expressive, and full of humour and frankness,
and there was a quaint decorative style in all the tableaux and in the
actors' movements that made me think rather of Persian figures in
decorations than of India. There was a parterre and a wide gallery, in
which we got back seats; the audience were all men and well-dressed, and
laughed heartily at the points. These I was fortunate enough to have
most patiently described to me by a Syrian who sat beside me,
apple-faced and beaming, pleased with the play and himself as
interpreter. Besides his valued assistance, I had from the doorkeeper a
resume of the plot printed in English; my acquaintance was less
fortunate, for, owing to the house being full, we had to separate to
get seats, and I fear he lost a good deal of the interest. The Syrian
gave me the strong points of the different actors, and told me that he
himself was an importer of gold leaf and thread; he had, I think, one of
the jolliest faces I have ever seen. The most simple and telling effect
was when the Prime Minister found his young master sickened of love for
a beautiful lady, and sent to the bazaar for musicians and dancers; they
came and arranged themselves facing the audience in the front of the
stage in a perfectly decorative arrangement, struck in a moment. Every
turn of hand and poise of body and arrangement of colour suggested the
smiling figures you see on Persian illuminations. I forgot the effect on
the Prince--I wonder he didn't die before we left; he had been acting
hours before we came, and we only saw a portion of the play--left at
twelve, and must have been there three hours! As we drove home the
bazaars were still busy. One street struck me as peculiarly quiet. There
were Japs at balconies of low two-storied doll-houses, silhouetted
against lamplight which shone through their red fans and pink kimonos,
and other shabby houses with spindle-shanked darker natives, in white
draperies, also some larger people dimly seen, on long chairs, who my
friend said, were probably French--European at least. One or two groups
of rather orderly sailors, and a soldier or two, were all the people on
the street, and the only sound was "Come eer', come eer'" from the
balconies in various accents. The Edinburgh cafe I noticed, loomed large
and dark and very respectable looking in the middle of the street. I
suppose you could get drinks there on week days; my companion, the
cutter, did not take any drinks, so