t like Tommies,
and have an air of much culture and refinement. It is said that they
read English books and know all about their rights and privileges. For
further details apply to the Pegu Club, second table from the top on
the right hand side as you enter.

In an evil hour I attempted to revive the drooping trade of Moulmein,
and to this end bound a native of the place to come on board the steamer
next morn with a collection of Burmese silks. It was only a five
minutes' pull, and he could have sat in the stern all the while. Morning
came, but not the man. Not a boat of watermelons, pink fleshy
watermelons, neared the ship. We might have been in quarantine. As we
slipped down the river on our way to Penang, I saw the elephants playing
with the teak logs as solemnly and as mysteriously as ever. They were
the chief inhabitants, and, for aught I know, the rulers of the place.
Their lethargy had corrupted the town, and when the Professor wished to
photograph them, I believe they went away in scorn.

We are now running down to Penang with the thermometer 87 deg. in the
cabins, and anything you please on deck. We have exhausted all our
literature, drunk two hundred lemon squashes; played forty different
games of cards (Patience mostly), organised a lottery on the run (had it
been a thousand rupees instead of ten I should not have won it), and
slept seventeen hours out of the twenty-four. It is perfectly impossible
to write, but you may be morally the better for the story of the Bad
People of Iquique which, "as you have not before heard, I will now
proceed to relate." It has just been told me by a German orchid-hunter,
fresh from nearly losing his head in the Lushai hills, who has been over
most of the world.

Iquique is somewhere in South America--at the back of or beyond
Brazil--and once upon a time there came to it a tribe of Aborigines from
out of the woods, so innocent that they wore nothing at all--absolutely
nothing at all. They had a grievance, but no garments, and the former
they came to lay before His Excellency, the Governor of Iquique. But the
news of their coming and their exceeding nakedness had gone before them,
and good Spanish ladies of the town agreed that the heathen should first
of all be clothed. So they organised a sewing-bee, and the result, which
was mainly aprons, was served out to the Bad People with hints as to its
use. Nothing could have been better. They appeared in their aprons
before the Gove