"I'll probably assign you to Empire district," the slender young
man was saying, "there's everything up there and almost any
language will sure be some help to us. This time we are taking a
thorough, complete census of all the Zone clear back to the Zone
line. Here's a sample card and list of instructions."

In other words kind Uncle Sam was about to give me authority to
enter every dwelling in the most cosmopolitan and thickly
populated district of his Canal Zone, and to put questions to
every dweller therein, note-book and pencil in hand; authority to
ramble around a month or more in sunshine and jungle--and pay me
for the privilege. There are really two methods of seeing the
Canal Zone; as an employee or as a guest at the Tivoli, both of
them at about five dollars a day--but at opposite ends of the
thermometer.

There remained a week-end between that Friday morning and the last
day of January, set for the beginning of the census. Certainly I
should not regret the arrival of the day when I should become an
employee, with all the privileges and coupon-books thereunto
appertained. For the Zone is no easy dwelling-place for the non-
employee. Our worthy Uncle of the chin whiskers makes it quite
plain that, while he may tolerate the mere visitor, he does not
care to have him hanging around; makes it so plain, in fact, that
a few weeks purely of sight-seeing on the Zone implies an
adamantine financial backing. In his screened and full-provided
towns, where the employee lives in such well-furnished comfort,
the tourist might beat his knuckles bare and shake yellow gold in
the other hand, and be coldly refused even a lodging for the