gambles, he overdresses himself, and he indulges in love-intrigues till he
has exhausted his means, and then he makes 'boss' pay for all. With a
terrible love of summonsing, and a thorough enjoyment of a law-court, he
enters into the spirit of the thing like an attorney's clerk. He soon
wearies of the less exciting life in the wilder settlements, where orgies
and debauchery are not fully developed; home-sickness seizes him, and he
deserts his post; probably robbing house or till.

Even a black who has once visited Sá Leone is considered spoilt for life,
as if he had spent a year in England. Hence the eccentric Captain Phil.
Beaver declared that he 'would rather carry a rattlesnake than a negro who
has been in London.' I have met with some ugly developments of
home-education. One was a yellow Dan Lambert, the son of a small
shopkeeper, who was returning--dubbed a 'Templar'--from the Land of
Liberty. He was not a pleasant companion. His face was that of a porker
half-translated; he yelped the regular Tom Coffee laugh; and when asked
why Sá Leone had not contributed to the Crimean Widow Fund, he uttered the
benevolent wish that 'the damned ---- and their brats might all starve
like their husbands.' Another was a full-blooded negro, a petty huckster
at the 'Red Grave,' who, in his last 'homeward' voyage, had met at Madeira
the Dean and Deaness of Oxbridge. The lady resolved to keep up the
creditable acquaintanceship: so strong is feminine love for the 'black
lion.' Shortly afterwards Niger paid his promised visit, which he
described graphically and sans sense of shame--how he had been met at the
station by a tall gentleman in uniform and gold-laced hat, how he was
invited to enter a carriage, and how great was his astonishment when the
'officer' preferred standing in the open air behind to accompanying him
inside. After this naïve _début_ he showed tact. Mr. Dean wished to know
if anything could be done towards advancing the interesting guest in his
'profession'--not trade. We talk of an English school-master, but a