re combination of Oriental elegance and modern
grace." She would be, it was said, in bearing and appearance, a credit
to an American drawing-room. Heaven forbid! Unless the writer possibly
meant that after due training she would grace the drawing-room in cap
and apron, wielding a duster in lieu of her inherited rod of empire.

On the day of our visit, Her Majesty was attired in garments of decided
dinginess, soiled and faded, with here and there an ill-made patch,
or perhaps a fresh hole, like a gaping wound, in the cloth. But it is
said that on the grand occasions when she honours the post with her
presence, she is attired in a splendour before which the lilies of the
field wilt with envy. Rainbow effects predominate, and much gilt and
silver embroidery, the ravishing impression being further enhanced
by a pair of white cotton mitts drawn over her bird-claw hands. On
these occasions of state the Sultana rides into town on the back of
a slave, with another slave holding a parasol over her august head,
and accompanied by several outriders, or rather outwalkers, attired
in few clothes of many colours.

The Sultan, too, rides pickaback when he comes to town, and as it is
considered a great privilege for a Moslem to have kissed the Sultan's
hand or foot, he is often gracious enough to sit astride a slave's
shoulders in some public place, the palms of his hands and the soles of
his bare feet obligingly outstretched, so that the thronging people can
come by fours and do homage to his state as expeditiously as possible.

One of the officers stationed in Sulu told us of a hunting trip which
he and several other men had taken with the Sultan and a high-ranking
datto, a royal hunt through royal preserves. To the intense amusement
of the Americans, the Moros insisted on taking their respective harems
with them on the chase, and at night all slept in one large room,
the three factions being separated only by curtains around raised
platforms.

For some time the harems and their respective lords called back and
forth to each other quite audibly, until the officers, worn out with
their day's shooting, fell asleep. About midnight the Americans were
awakened by such frightful shrieks and blood-curdling yells that each
instinctively felt for his revolver or rifle, fearing an attack from
the fanatical Moslems. It transpired, however, that it was only a
slave girl singing the Sultan to sleep! The officer described this
musical effort a