things), the manifestations of their malignity and vice are, if
anything, rather less evident here than in our own favoured country,
where we do all in our power to satisfy their wants.

That same evening I found myself seated next to a maiden of
prepossessing vivacity, who was spoken of as being one of a kindred
but not identical race. Filled with the incredible profanity of those
around, and hoping to find among a nation so alluringly high-spirited
a more congenial elevation of mind, I at length turned to her and
said, "Do not regard the question as one of unworthy curiosity, for
this person's inside is white and funereal with his fears; but do you,
of your allied race, worship your ancestors?"

The maiden spent a moment in conscientious thought. "No, Mr. Kong,"
she replied, with a most commendable sigh of unfeigned regret, "I
can't say that we do. I guess it's because we're too new. Mine, now,
only go back two generations, and they were mostly in lard. If they
were old and baronial it might be different, but I can't imagine
myself worshipping an ancestor in lard." (This doubtless refers to
some barbaric method of embalming.)

"And your wide and enlightened countrymen?" I asked, unable to
restrain a passion of pure-bred despair. "Do they also so regard the
obligation?"

"I am afraid so," replied the maiden, with an honourable indication
towards my emotion. "But of course when a girl marries into the
European aristocracy, she and all her folk worship her husband's
ancestors, until every one about is fairly dizzy with the subject."