delight in their beauty, and were exceedingly
careful of it. A lovely face and delicate complexion, they averred,
added to one's refinement. The art of applying an artificial bloom and
fairness to the skin, which I had often seen practiced in my own
country, appeared to be unknown to them. But everything savoring of
deception was universally condemned. They made no concealment of the
practice they resorted to for preserving their complexions, and so
universal and effectual were they, that women who, I was informed, had
passed the age allotted to the grandmothers in my country, had the
smooth brow and pink bloom of cheek that belongs to a more youthful
period of life. There was, however, a distinction between youth and old
age. The hair was permitted to whiten, but the delicate complexion of
old age, with its exquisite coloring, excited in my mind as much
admiration as astonishment.

I cannot explain why I hesitated to press my first inquiry as to where
the men were. I had put the question to Wauna one day, but she professed
never to have heard of such beings. It silenced me--for a time.

"Perhaps it is some extinct animal," she added, naively. "We have so
many new things to study and investigate, that we pay but little
attention to ancient history."

I bided my time and put the query in another form.

"Where is your other parent?"

She regarded me with innocent surprise. "You talk strangely. I have but
one parent. How could I have any more?"

"You ought to have two."

She laughed merrily. "You have a queer way of jesting. I have but one
mother, one adorable mother. How could I have two?" and she laughed
again.

I saw that there was some mystery I could not unravel at present, and
fearing to involve myself in some trouble, refrained from further
questioning on the subject. I nevertheless kept a close observance of
all that passed, and seized every opportunity to investigate a mystery
that began to harass me with its strangeness.

Soon after my conversation with Wauna, I attended an entertainment at
which a great number of guests were present. It was a literary festival
and, after the intellectual delicacies were disposed of, a banquet
followed of more than royal munificence. Toasts were drank, succeeded by
music and dancing and all the gayeties of a festive occasion, yet none
but the fairest of fair women graced the scene. Is it strange,
therefore, that I should have regarded with increasing astonishment and