Colombo, as most of my readers will remember, is in Ceylon, that
beautiful island lying to the south of India.
You would think the people very funny, seeing them for the first time.
The man in the picture, who is walking with the little English girl, is
a Hindu, and probably you have often seen pictures like him. Nearly all
the servants and laborers in Colombo are Hindus from Madras, but the
natives of the island are called Cingalese, and are very different in
every way.
The men wear their hair in a big knob at the back like a woman, and on
the top of that is fastened a comb, shaped like a half-circle, with the
ends pointed to the face. The whole costume is a mixture of native and
English fashions. The usual hat is a little round felt one, such as you
may see any day on boys at home, and which you have perhaps yourself.
The next garment is also what you might expect to see on a man; that is,
a cloth coat, or rather shooting-jacket; but after that comes a long
flowing skirt, which you certainly would not see on any man or boy at
home. The Cingalese men bestow a good deal of attention on this skirt.
Poorer people have it made in white or blue calico, but others use very
handsome India stuffs, which must have cost a lot of money.
The heat in Colombo is very great, and the roads are very dusty. No
wonder the people often feel hot and tired, and are very glad to lie
down and take a little sleep when they can. They also cool themselves by
standing in some pools near the town. The cattle do the same, and you
can just see the heads of the buffaloes and of the men above the level
of the water. They stand that way for an hour or two, perfectly still;
but the little children who go in keep jumping about and splashing each
other.
You may see in this picture the fruit shops in the native quarter of the
town, and bunches of bananas or plantains hanging up. Other shops sell
grain, which the people chiefly live upon. It is nothing unusual to see
the grain merchant lying fast asleep on the top of his store of rice or
other grain. Outside many houses stands a wooden bedstead, and the old
people lie there asleep a great part of the day. The Cingalese are said
to be very kind to old people, which is a very good trait in their
character. I wish they were a little kinder to their animals, but they
never seem to think that poor bullocks have any feeling at all. The
carts in Colombo are drawn by bullocks, and they have a very hard time
of it. The rope used as reins is passed through a hole bored through
their nostrils, and a heavy beam of wood rests on their backs. Worse
still, they are branded all over, not only with the owner's initials,
but with all sorts of fanciful ornamental figures; the cruel people who
do this never caring what the unfortunate animals suffer while it is
being done. The houses are often painted outside with animals and birds
in the brightest colors; and some of these wall pictures are so absurd
that strangers always stop to look and laugh at them.
"Ho! 'Hamed! _dear_ 'Hamed, you _will_ let me ride Prince Albert Victor,
won't you?"
The speaker was a little, brown, black-eyed boy, with dark tangled locks
under his old red fez, and clad in a dirty white cotton garment, who was
coaxing a tall Egyptian lad in a very irresistible way. Children coax
much the same all the world over, to get their way, be they white or
black or brown. In this case little Hassan got his. And what was it he
wanted?
'Hamed, an Egyptian donkey-boy, was leaving home early in the morning as
usual, leaving his dim, dirty quarters in the native part of Cairo for
the European part of the city. And with him, as usual, was going Prince
Albert Victor.
Prince Albert Victor was only a donkey, a very nice, strong, well-fed
Egyptian donkey, but nothing more, in spite of his grand name. But all
the Cairo donkeys which stand about the streets for hire have very grand
names given to them by their owners to attract the European tourists.
For instance, some boy will call his donkey by an American name--such as
Washington, or Yankee-doodle--that the American travellers may fancy
him. Another, with a view to a Frenchman or an Englishman, will christen
his animal President Carnot or Lord Salisbury. 'Hamed had called his
Prince Albert Victor; for he found a royal name very popular, not only
with English travellers, but with the red-coated British soldiers who
pervade the streets of Cairo.
Now, little Hassan wanted, as usual, to ride Albert Victor down from his
home to his habitual waiting-place in front of one of the big hotels. It
was such a delight to him to thrust his bare brown feet into the
stirrup-leathers (his legs were too short to reach the stirrups), and,
clutching Albert Victor's bridle, and sitting very erect, to fancy
himself very grand indeed as they slowly passed down the dim alleys of
their native town.
It was a glorious day, such a blue sky, such a bright sun, so different
from winter in our dull, foggy England, that little Elfreda felt very
happy as she looked out of the hotel window on such new and strange
sights.
"It seems like stories out of the Bible, mother," she cried, gazing at
the Eastern dresses, the queer-looking figures, the donkeys, and the
camels. For Elfreda and her mother had only lately come to Cairo for the
winter, for the mother's health, and everything was still wonderful to
her.
"Where shall we go to-day?" she added. "To the mosques, or through the
bazaars, or out a long way into the country by the river? Quick, mother;
let me call some donkey-boys, and let's be off."
"There's that little tiny boy just ridden up, he who comes every morning
with the big one! I _must_ have his donkey again!"