New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1920-09-19

| oFlnK II thaC would I'LL your need.
Look over yonder on the slope be-
yond the Government House, that
purple blaze. It's 8 big bachang
tree in bloom, and IL you should take
the path that climbs beside it you
might find such entertainment as
perhaps you're seeking. Local I be-
lieve it is and quite tropic, Keep
always to the left till you reach a
pair o green gates-three turns, or
it may be four-and mind your foot
ing as you 60, sir"-
So this was the way Mr.. Tunstal
won his wish in the early morning,
when he came to the garden of Lol
Raman, up from terrace to terrace
above that far, that very far, East
ern town.
He met his first thrill where
Ezekiel met his in the vision, within
the threshold of the gate. The high
wall he had been following gave
suddenly under an arch. There
were the double green doors, stand
ing open, and he entered sort of
open air conservatory. At least
he had no better word for a place
so crammed with color and scent and
no word at all for the strange
flowers and improbable trees that
clustered along the walks. Down by
the further end of the Enclosure
stood low house almost lost in
shrubbery. An arbor with some
chairs and tables seemed to invite
the passerby. And just before him,
in Buddhistic meditation under
palm, squatted the reception COM
mittee of one-a monstrous orang-
outang, the true red-haired jungle
man, with a face like a hideous
black caricature Of death.
Things happened. At sight Of
visitor the huge beast reared him
self and sprang abruptly into vehe-
ment life, bouncing on bent knuckles.
He started out to the limit of the
chain until the bright steel links
smoked ominously behind him and
the leather harness drew taut about
his shoulders, pumping and roaring
in the great cavern Of his chest to
top a gale Of his own forests. He
scurried around the trunk and
snatched at something's packet of
leaves. He ran around the other
way and retrieved little lacquer
box. Crouching over these treasures
with every appearance Of the most
frantic rage he began, swiftly and
incredibly-to roll cigarettes
And meanwhile, impressive as
wax manikin, white-j acketed,
white-saronged servitor glided from
space somewhere to prepare table
and to offer chair in the arbor, to
set out square-faced bottle, to
pour glass Of golden yellow liquor
and to collect the tiny, fresh cylin-
ders Of tobacco which the earnest
ape was shedding about him in a
shower-all with the gesture Of con-
juring.
Tunstal sat down hard. He sue
ceeded in lighting one of the ciga-
rettes. Exquisite. He gulped the
glass Of liquor. Delicious.
II SEEM" said Tunstal, hopping
his brow, II seem to have landed as
per invoice"
"Stengah," he observed, reaching
for the bottle. "Manti dooloo!"
The waxen gentleman looked a
trifle more intelligent than an egg
plant. Evidently his island Malay
was not up to the classical standard.
Tunstal tried him in fragmentary
Dutch to the same effect and with
the same result.
Damn it say I want more and
never mind taking that bottle
away" +
The manikin's face opened.
ooh, sure. Three dolla' hap"
On being paid in Singapore silver /
he vanished into space once more,
while Tunstal philosophical.
"Too bad about the simple native
that has no use for tourist"
The garden had fallen TO a drowsy
hush. Within it's four walls only
the great red ape stayed to do the
honors, and he had subsidized, apply
ing himself seriously now to the
cigarette industry. He sat cross
legged, workmanlike, with a bobbing
of his ugly head and a ridiculous
curling tongue above the delicate
task. Selecting a leaf of the nat
ural weed and adding a pinch for
filler, he would somehow twist the |
spill and nip under the ends with
flying fingers. Curious fingers he
had-long and black and muscular
talons that yet were nimble
enough to trick the eye. 1t was