Next morning early,he appeared with a present of bananas,and his little girl dressed from head to foot in brand-new clothes,bought out of my money,with her wool screwed up extremely tight in little knots on her black little head (evidently her mother is the blackest of Caffres or Mozambiques).The child looked like a Caffre,and her father considers her quite a pearl.I had her in,and admired the little thing loud enough for him to hear outside,as I lay in bed.You see,I too was to have my share in the pleasure of the new clothes.This readiness to believe that one will sympathize with them,is very pleasing in the Malays.
March 15.
I went to see my old Malay friends and to buy a water-melon.They were in all the misery of Ramadan.Betsy and pretty Nassirah very thin and miserable,and the pious old Abdool sitting on a little barrel waiting for 'gun-fire'-i.e.sunset,to fall to on the supper which old Betsy was setting out.He was silent,and the corners of his mouth were drawn down just like -'s at an evening party.
I shall go to-morrow to bid the T-s good-bye,at Wynberg.I was to have spent a few days there,but Wynberg is cold at night and dampish,so I declined that.She is a nice woman -Irish,and so innocent and frank and well-bred.She has been at Cold Bokke Veld,and shocked her puritanical host by admiring the naked Caffres who worked on his farm.He wanted them to wear clothes.
We have been amused by the airs of a naval captain and his wife,who are just come here.They complained that the merchant-service officers spoke FAMILIARLY to their children on board.QUEL AUDACE!
When I think of the excellent,modest,manly young fellows who talked very familiarly and pleasantly to me on board the ST.
LAWRENCE,I long to reprimand these foolish people.
Friday,21st.-I am just come from prayer,at the Mosque in Chiappini Street,on the outskirts of the town.A most striking sight.A large room,like a county ball-room,with glass chandeliers,carpeted with common carpet,all but a space at the entrance,railed off for shoes;the Caaba and pulpit at one end;over the niche,a crescent painted;and over the entrance door a crescent,an Arabic inion,and the royal arms of England!Afat jolly Mollah looked amazed as I ascended the steps;but when Itouched my forehead and said,'Salaam Aleikoom',he laughed and said,'Salaam,Salaam,come in,come in.'The faithful poured in,all neatly dressed in their loose drab trousers,blue jackets,and red handkerchiefs on their heads;they left their wooden clogs in company,with my shoes,and proceeded,as it appeared,to strip.
Off went jackets,waistcoats,and trousers,with the dexterity of a pantomime transformation;the red handkerchief was replaced by a white skullcap,and a long large white shirt and full white drawers flowed around them.How it had all been stuffed into the trim jacket and trousers,one could not conceive.Gay sashes and scarves were pulled out of a little bundle in a clean silk handkerchief,and a towel served as prayer-carpet.In a moment the whole scene was as oriental as if the Hansom cab I had come in existed no more.Women suckled their children,and boys played among the clogs and shoes all the time,and I sat on the floor in a remote corner.The chanting was very fine,and the whole ceremony very decorous and solemn.It lasted an hour;and then the little heaps of garments were put on,and the congregation dispersed,each man first laying a penny on a very curious little old Dutch-looking,heavy,iron-bound chest,which stood in the middle of the room.
I have just heard that the post closes to-night and must say farewell -A RIVEDERCI.