would have been a kindness if some one had worn a dunce's cap or reddened his nose for dinner, and so rewarded Bébé's long and hungry waiting more adequately than with caviare and rich entrées.

For a short time a source of amusement to him was a Borzoi dog, bought as an additional expensive ornament to the establishment, valued only on account of the high price paid for him. Nobody loved him, and he loved nobody; he had no training, and consequently soon became unmanageable and dangerous, and was sent away. When he was excited he performed all sorts of serpentine exercises and freakish gambols, and these antics made Bébé split his sides.

The peasants never got used to this exotic animal, the breed being unknown in those parts, and they persisted in considering him a half-starved creature on account of his shape, and would offer him food and throw crusts at him. Their obstinate opinion, and his mode of saying "thank you "-that is, of making fools of them, tickled Bébé's sense of humour mightily. The dog would take the crust in his mouth gingerly, bound with it into the middle of the road, and there execute a series of leaps, curves, and juggling tricks, throwing the crust high in the air, placing it on the ground and darting at it, rushing round it with a show of ecstatic enthusiasm, and at times leaping right over Bébé's head. An increasing group of peasants looked on with awe,

never smiling, never certain whether the weird shadowy snake of a so-called dog were not some unholy creature with magic properties. Their solemnity and their pity for it as starved or mad was the cream of the joke to Bébé.

Bébé had one local chum, a young man of five-and-twenty, half Russian, half Serb, tall and graceful, hearty of voice, keen of wit.

Among the visitors who petted, teased, or made comments on Bébé, he alone really understood and befriended him; he had an encouraging and cheering personality, and was neither condescending nor critical. He talked to him on an equality, of travel or of stamp-collecting, giving him his own album with many good ones; he told him funny tales that were intelligent and entertaining, and he could speak many languages with a degree of eloquence and inaccuracy that was amazing to the ignorant and amusing to the learned. He probably had a fellow-feeling for Bébé, for he also was lonely, was intelligent beyond the average and out of his natural element; he would have suffered also from ennui, but, unlike his small friend, he had a wonderful source of enthusiasm and good spirits when in company, and a friendly soul that made for geniality with the passers-by. He was a democrat, too, and on excellent terms with the juvenile ragtag and bobtail of the public gardens, where he fraternised with infants from the perambulator

age and upwards. This extremely simple form of gaiety he indulged in to keep up his spirits when sunk low from lack of society and scope, and he found a reward which he expressed : "When I walk through the gardens, the children there they all knows me!" in a tone of real triumph.

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Something from this cheery presence always always effected change for the better in Bébé; they never bored each other in talk, and when he was at the dinner-table it was sure to be lively; they seemed to meet on common ground-he so like a child in heart, and the child so mature for his few years. It is said that the Russian feels every man his brother, and there was something touching in the sight of this big fellow of versatile gifts, spontaneous gestures, and advanced culture of intellect recognising a brother in the small frail scrap of humanity, and never making a blunder in his advances. For to most people Bébé was unresponsive and unlovable; he retired quickly into his impenetrable shell when they questioned him, and was even thought dull, so little interest did their conversation or their manners arouse in him. They either petted or catechised him, and one mode offended his intelligence, the other his natural reticence. He never spoke of his sentiments, and signs of affection were of so subtle and concealed a quality that one almost doubted their existence.

I myself had the favour of his friendship and trust, and

considered the compliment no small one. My last sight of him was seated on the boxseat of the departing carriage, from which his pale little face showed an expression of spiritless dejection. It was good-bye for ever in all probability, but his parting was a toneless bon jour no more, and his face wore the look of c'est toujours comme ça ! But I think he would have had a qualm of real regret had the prevailing cholera deposited me in the portion of the cemetery unconsecrated by his Church.

I received a series of quaint letters from him which told me that his remembrance of our friendship was a sweet one, and that his memory would keep it intact. He wrote at some length of the details of his daily programme, and included some philosophic wisdom. Mamma scolds me always that I am not enough gentleman," he wrote. And also that, "It is always nicer the little girls than boys. Mamma says that boys are nice only when they become men with ladyes." Poor pathetic little being! If I could have lifted the veil and peeped into his future, I think I should have turned coward and covered my eyes, dreading to see a still more pitiful figure. May life have been kinder to him than my imaginings could foretell, and may it never rob him of at least one love, one trust, and one friendship worthy of the loyalty that was his most valuable possession.

MAY ORTON.

It may be truly said of the Portuguese "Fidalgo" ("hidalgo "in Castilian, "noble" in French, "Adel" in German, and, in the right English, "gentleman ") that he was "Primus in Indis." He was the first European who came to India and the Far East as armed intruder to conquer, and to remain as master. The European had not been unknown, nor even unwelcome, on the great trade route of the East from the Bab-el-Mandeb and the Straits of Ormuz, along the coast of Malabar, onward to the Straits of Malacca, and through that gate of the sea or the side-door at the Straits of Sunda, to China and Japan. From the time of the Ptolemies in Egypt that is, from the time when the venturesome Greek noted that whoever sailed east before the wind of Hippalus, which we more prosaically name the South-West Monsoon, could right easily make his direct way to the Gulf of Cambaya and to Malabar, and being there, had but to wait for the change of seasons to be blown back by the tradewind from the north-east remote Asia had known the wandering seamen, merchants, and missionaries, Nestorian or Orthodox, of Europe, with a few artisans, and here or there a soldier of fortune among them. Nobody was afraid of

them. They were harmless and profitable guests. It was far otherwise with the "Fidalgo."

Because of all he did during a century of far-reaching activity, he stamped a picture of himself on the Asiatic memory which some authorities incline to think has never been effaced. He inspired a horror, a dread, a loathing which have been transferred to other Europeans. Perhaps there is exaggeration here, and the Asiatic, however tenacious he may be of recollections of wrong, has not nursed this grudge for four hundred years and more. For the other European peoples the Portuguese showed the way, and set an example which is a warning.

The "Fidalgos " were the leaders and must bear the blame, while they take the honour of the achievement. They deserve at least not to be forgotten, and it is neither uninteresting nor useless to see them as they were.