be seen."

I was rewarded for this bit of delicate attention by an approving smile
from the lovely Chatterissa, and good Mistress Lynx no longer kept her
eyes riveted on the floor, but bent them on me with looks of admiration
and gratitude.

"Now that this little contre-temps is no longer an obstacle," I resumed,
"permit me to continue those inquiries which you have hitherto answered
with so much amenity and so satisfactorily. As you have no clothes,
in what manner is the parallel between your usage and that of the new
London police practically completed?"

"Although we have no clothes, nature, whose laws are never violated with
impunity, but who is as beneficent as she is absolute, has furnished us
with a downy covering to supply their places wherever clothes are needed
for comfort. We have coats that defy fashions, require no tailors, and
never lose their naps. But it would be inconvenient to be totally clad
in this manner; and, therefore, the palms of the hands are, as you see,
ungloved; the portions of the frame on which we seat ourselves are
left uncovered, most probably lest some inconvenience should arise from
taking accidental and unfavorable positions. This is the part of the
monikin frame the best adapted for receiving paint, and the numbers of
which I have spoken are periodically renewed there, at public offices
appointed for that purpose. Our characters are so minute as to escape
the human eye; but by using that opera-glass, I make no doubt that you
may still see some of my own enregistration, although, alas! unusual
friction, great misery, and, I may say, unmerited wrongs, have nearly
un-monikined me in this, as well as in various other particulars."

As Dr. Reasono had the complaisance to turn round, and to use his tail
like the index of a black-board, by aid of the glass I very distinctly
traced the figures to which he alluded. Instead of being in paint,
however, as he had given me reason to anticipate, they seemed to be
branded, or burnt in, indelibly, as we commonly mark horses, thieves,
and negroes. On mentioning the fact to the philosopher, it was explained
with his usual facility and politeness.

"You are quite right, sir," he said; "the omission of paint was to
prevent tautology, an offence against the simplicity of the monikin
dialect, as well as against monikin taste, that would have been
sufficient, under our opinions, even to overturn the government."

"Tautology!"

"Tautology, Sir John