{125} The inside, which is full of black pips, is very white, as soft as butter, and of the most exquisite flavour.
It is eaten with the help of small spoons.
A few days before my departure from Singapore, I had an opportunity of witnessing the burial of a Chinese in easy circumstances.

The procession passed our house, and in spite of a temperature of 113 degrees Fah., I went with it to the grave, which was three or four miles distant, and was too much interested in the ceremony to leave until it was concluded, although it lasted nearly two hours.
At the head of the procession was a priest, and at his side a Chinese with a lantern two feet high, covered with white cambric.
Then came two musicians, one of whom beat a small drum at intervals, and the other played the cymbals.

These persons were followed by the coffin, with a servant holding a large open parasol over that part of it on which the head of the deceased lay.

Alongside walked the eldest son or the nearest male relative, carrying a small white flag, and with his hair hanging in disorder over his shoulders.

The relations were all dressed in the deepest mourning--that is to say, entirely in white; the men had even got white caps on, and the women were so enveloped in white cloths that it was impossible to see so much as their faces.