Jungle and Stream; Or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam

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DEAN & SON, LTD. 6 LA BELLA SAUVAGE, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON, E.C.4
Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling! was sung in a good, clear, boyish tenor, and then the singer stopped, to say impatiently,—
What nonsense it is! My head seems stuffed full of Scotch songs,—'Wee bit sangs,' as the doctor calls them. Seems funny that so many Scotch people should come out here to the East. I suppose it's because the Irish all go to the West, that they may get as far apart as they can, so that there may not be a fight. I say, though, I want my breakfast.
The speaker, to wit Harry Kenyon, sauntered up to the verandah of the bungalow and looked in at the window of the cool, shaded room, where a man-servant in white drill jacket and trousers was giving the finishing touches to the table.
Breakfast ready, Mike?
Yes, sir; coffee's boiled, curry's made.
Curry again?
Yes, Master Harry; curry again. That heathen of a cook don't believe a meal's complete without curry and rice.
But I thought we were going to have fried fish this morning.
So did I, sir. I told him plainly enough; but he won't understand, and he's curried the lot.