After a short row, followed by a still shorter drive, I found myself installed in a very comfortable house; and as my advent was unexpected, I had to be shunted to a corner, a very comfortable one, however, on which my hostess had evidently expended an amount of taste and ingenuity. Two things only interfered with my night’s rest; the one consisting in a large and repulsive lizard crawling round my pillow. It was quite harmless, no doubt, but it was the extraordinary size of the creature—it resembled a young alligator—that attracted my attention, and made me hope that it too would go to rest as soon as the light was out. The other drawback to sleep was the absence of the thud of the steamer; and the perfect stillness reigning around positively kept me awake—such creatures are we of habit. CHAPTER XV. MOULMEIN. “Gutta cavat lapidem non vi, sed sæpe cadendo.” The capital of the Tenasserim provinces is situated on the left bank of the river, about half a day’s steaming from its mouth. It is, if anything, even more picturesque than Prome; and, at that period, civilization had made considerable strides, calculated to enhance its beauty, in the shape of good roads and tasteful houses. The site on which it was built was of an undulating character, with imposing hills in the background, between which intervened a swampy belt, inundated during the monsoon, and under cultivation when the waters had subsided. From motives of convenience and salubrity, the native and European residences were built parallel to the river, in a line extending over several miles. Once again my eye rested on houses built on piles, and they appeared so familiar, that I could scarcely realize the fact of having for the past four years been associated with any other. The European houses boasted roomy verandahs, protected from the prevailing glare by luxuriant creepers. Teak and bamboo entered largely into their composition, while the roofs were covered with “shingles,” or flat, thin boards cut into fixed sizes and laid on after the manner of tiles. They resisted water wonderfully, but whenever it poured—it never _rained_!—the noise was such as to drown all attempts at conversation. Perchance a shower would descend in the middle of a meal, and the hush would then be as great as if a punkah had suddenly given way in the hot season, or a steamer with heated bearings had suddenly come to a standstill in the Red Sea. In the native quarters too, the houses were more substantially built than anything I had seen elsewhere, and the excellent sanitation was a bright feather in the cap of the Commissioner, as well as those under him, who had to deal not only with Burmese, but with a medley of Chinese, Malays, Karens, Shans and Madrasees, who had settled in the place and were conspicuous by their industry.