rickshaw—very quickly all round the town. We tore along, scattering every one right and left; went first through a crowded street, and I had visions of painted ladies rising in balconies and rows of Japanese girls calling out in chorus, but we tore past unheeding and raced all over the place. “Here—hi!” I cried at last; “not so fast— stop!” whereupon my coolies came to a dead stop and nearly threw me out. I admire much the fat, rich-looking Chinese driving about in grand carriages with liveried Malay servants on the box, and I saw three stout Chinamen packed into one rickshaw, and their coolie nearly fainting with the weight. These Chinese become rich and prosperous under our Government, but if they went to China would lose their wealth and their heads—but it will not be always so.
Captain Niedermayer, Captain Dunbar, and a young German friend of theirs, apparently from some house of business here, came to see me one evening, and we sat on the verandah having whiskies and sodas. At first all was right, but by degrees the young German merged into his own language, forgot me entirely, and commenced railing against the misgovernment of Singapore, and the imbecility of the British authorities. They even, he said with scorn, had a Chinaman on the Town Council. He let out all sorts of things, and I sat taking them all in. Then he described how he had been pulled up to Court for not paying his washing bill, and how even his own Chinese boy was called as a witness against him. “I, a German,” and here he thumped his breast, “actually have my Chinese boy called against me!”
Having had enough of it, I leant forward and said calmly—
“But why did you not pay your washing bill?”
