On a sunny day you will find gathered in the area of the outer court a motley assemblage of priests, boys and beggars, lazily basking in the sun or engaged in various pursuits—chewing betel-nut, smoking, gambling or playing chess; which latter is much the same game as our own, only the powers of the pieces are more restricted. If it should happen to be a Siamese holy day, a busy multitude of all ages and both sexes, men, women and children, will be passing to and fro, carrying offerings to the temple or going to hear Buddhist preaching.
Let us examine the buildings more closely. Passing the first, possibly the second, court, you reach by a flight of steps the wide terrace on which stands the principal temple or idol-house. This court is surrounded by a quadrangular row of cloisters; handsome jars filled with lotus and other plants surround the temple. This is only a large Siamese hall, built of brick thickly coated with white plaster, which at a little distance gives it the appearance of marble. The pyramidal roof, in vertical stages, turns up at the extremities in great horns, and is resplendent with glazed red, green and yellow tiles. The roofs, gable-ends, doors and windows (without glass) are of solid timber, covered in a bewildering way with intricately-cut cornices, intersecting mouldings and fantastic embellishments of grotesque human and animal figures, elaborately
