sight in Cambodia, is never under
any circumstances permitted to dance during his Majesty's absence."

"But why not telegraph the King?" I suggested, though with waning hope.
"Or get him on the telephone. Tell him how much the pictures would do
to acquaint the American public with the attractions of his country;
explain to him that they would bring here hundreds of visitors who
otherwise would never know that there is such a place as Pnom-Penh.
More than that," I added diplomatically, "they would undoubtedly wake
up American capitalists to a realization of Cambodia's natural
resources. That's what you particularly want here, isn't it--foreign
capital?"

That argument seemed to impress the shrewd and far-seeing Frenchman.

"Perhaps something can be done, after all," he told me. "I will send
for the Minister of the Royal Household and ask him if he can
communicate with the King. As soon as I learn something definite, you
will hear from me."

The second day following I received a call from the chief of the
political bureau.

"Everything has been arranged as you desired," was the cheering news
with which he greeted me. "The _defile_ will take place in the grounds
of the palace tomorrow morning. Already the necessary orders have been
issued. Thirty elephants with their state housings; eighty ceremonial
cars drawn by sacred bullocks; the royal body-guard in full uniform; a
delegation of mandarins in court-dress; a hundred Buddhist priests
attached to the royal temple; and, moreover, his Majesty has granted
special permission an unheard-of thing, let me tell you!--for the royal
ballet to give a performance expressly for you to-morrow afternoon on
the terrace of the throne-hall. It will be a marvelous spectacle."

"Bully!" I exclaimed. "Won't you have a drink?"

"There is one thing I forgot to mention," the official remarked
hesitatingly, as he sipped the gin sling which is the favorite drink of
the tropics. "There will be a small charge for expenses--tips, you
know, for the palace officials."

"Oh, that's all right," I replied lightly. "How much will the tips
amount to?"

"Only about two hundred piastres," was the somewhat startling answer,
for, at the then current rate of exchange a piastre was worth about
$1.50 gold. "The resident will pay half of it, however, as he believes
that the pictures will prove of great value to the country."

Yet most people think that tipping has reached its apogee in the United
State