Yonder, in the Chinese temple, a huge pasteboard demon is seen disporting himself, with head of frightful aspect and enormous size, and body of cloth. You may freely walk in; and as you look around and admire the excellence of the building and the expensive and choice furniture, lamps and decorations, you may also see the huge creature writhing about, with all manner of contortions, to the deafening din of drums and the clash of cymbals. Somehow Orientals seem to be able to combine amusement with devotion. My three little children who have walked in with me, scared almost out of their wits with the noise, and still more with the portentous sight of the demon, promptly take to their heels and rush out of the temple, and cannot be induced to return, so I go out in search of them. At the corner of the next street an enormous representation of a tiger, ten times life size, in teeth and claws complete, and with a most ferocious aspect, has been glaring at the passers-by for some days. And, as you look, here comes a rude likeness of a gigantic lady ten feet high, who, however, seems to move along very ungracefully, and bows very stiffly in acknowledgment of the cheers of the crowd. The Chinese are particularly fond of getting up a very brilliantly executed figure of a serpent, in great splendour and in very bright colours, many yards long, which is borne high overhead through the streets on these occasions, with quite a procession. This particular show seems to afford scope for high art in representing the wrigglings of the monster as it is carried along. But this is all only preparatory to the festival called _Wah-gyoot_ (literally “the release from the Wah”). It is a festival of lights. For three nights the whole city of Mandalay is one blaze of illumination. Every house has its complement of candles or oil lamps; the rich in keeping with their means, and the poor according to their poverty. At that season the air is still, there is little or no wind, all the lights are out of doors and burn brightly. The streets are lit up with candles at every ten paces; the pagodas are effectively illuminated with hundreds of lights far up into their spires. Little children are trundling extemporised carts with bamboo wheels, each carrying a tiny illumination, covered with a lamp of thin, coloured paper. In addition to the house illuminations, paper lanterns are quite the fashion in China Street, where the well-known ingenuity of John Chinaman produces fantastic shapes in various colours, representing sundry animals, fishes, ships and what not. On the great river, as soon as it grows dark, the villagers row out into the middle of the stream and set adrift multitudes of oil lamps, each fastened to a little float of bamboo or plantain stem. Thousands of them are sent out by each village, so that the whole Irrawaddy is one blaze of twinkling lights.