The Custom-House is an open _sala_, or shed, where interpreters,
inspectors, and tidewaiters lounge away the day on cool mats, chewing
areca, betel, and tobacco, and extorting moneys, goods, or provisions
from the unhappy proprietors of native trading craft, large or small;
but Europeans are protected from their rascally and insolent exactions
by the intelligence and energy of their respective consuls.

The hotel is a whitewashed brick building, originally designed to
accommodate foreign ambassadors and other official personages visiting
the Court of Siam. The king's summer-house, fronting the islands, is the
largest edifice to be seen, but it has neither dignity nor beauty. A
number of inferior temples and monasteries occupy the background, and
are crowded with a rabble of priests, in yellow robes and with shaven
pates; packs of mangy pariah-dogs attend them. These monasteries consist
of many small rooms or cells, containing merely a mat and wooden pillow
for each occupant. The refuse of the food, which the priests beg during
the day, is cast to the dogs at night; and what _they_ refuse is left to
putrefy. Unimaginable are the stenches the sun of Siam engenders in such
conditions.

A village so happily situated might, under better management, become a
thriving and pleasing port; but neglect, cupidity, and misrule have
shockingly deformed and degraded it. Nevertheless, by its picturesque
site and surroundings of beauty, it retains its hold upon the regretful
admiration of many Europeans and Americans, who in ill health have found
strength and cheer in its sea-breezes.

We heartily enjoyed the delightful freshness of the evening air as we
glided up the Meinam, though the river view at this point is somewhat
marred by the wooden piers and quays that line it on either side, and