It is only the European part of Singapore which is dull and sleepy
looking.
No life and movement congregate round the shops. The
merchants, hidden away behind jalousies in their offices, or dashing
down the streets in covered buggies, make but a poor show. Their houses
are mostly pale, roomy, detached bungalows, almost altogether hidden by
the bountiful vegetation of the climate. In these their wives, growing
paler every week, lead half-expiring lives, kept alive by the efforts
of ubiquitous "punkah-wallahs;" writing for the mail, the one active
occupation. At a given hour they emerge, and drive in given directions,
specially round the esplanade, where for two hours at a time a double
row of handsome and showy equipages moves continuously in opposite
directions. The number of carriages and the style of dress of their
occupants are surprising, and yet people say that large fortunes are
not made now-a-days in Singapore! Besides the daily drive, the ladies,
the officers, and any men who may be described as of "no occupation,"
divert themselves with kettle-drums, dances, lawn tennis, and various
other devices for killing time, and this with the mercury at 80
degrees! Just now the Maharajah of Johore, sovereign of a small state
on the nearest part of the mainland, a man much petted and decorated by
the British Government for unswerving fidelity to British interests,
has a house here, and his receptions and dinner parties vary the
monotonous round of gayeties.
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