the king's boat at the head with the Siamese flag aloft, and gongs sounding the departure.
Our missionary fleet seldom exceeds three boats, and is minus the flags and gongs, but instead has the waving of hats and handkerchiefs by the outward bound, which is answered by the watchers on the banks. "Bon voyage!" and "God speed you!" mingle with the farewells of the company on the receding boats until each is lost to the other's sight.
Let us suppose that you and I are of a company awaiting in Bangkok the coming of the Laos boats. For many days we have been making provision for our journey as well as enjoying the society of dear friends, when at last one evening the announcement is made, "The boats are here!" With one accord we rush to the river-bank in time to see them filing into place for mooring in front of the missionary compound. How topheavy they look, reminding us of old-fashioned stage-coaches! The dusky boatmen look at us with smiling faces as we greet them with "Subirú?" ("Are you well?"), and respond with a hearty "Subi? subi?" ("Well? well?"), returning the question to us. We next ask, "How many days since you left Cheung Mai?" Ten days, or fifteen, or twenty may be the reply, for you must understand it is easier to get from Cheung Mai to Bangkok than from here to Cheung Mai. How is that? Well, their quick trip
