becomes a circular saw which threatens to take your head off. Then
you fling the shirt to your Boy, and the dirzee is in requisition
again. Observation of white trousers will lead to similar results.
Between Dhobie's fury and Boy's repairs, the ends of the legs retreat
steadily upwards to your knees, and by the time the Boy inherits them
they are just his length. Remember, I do not say I believe in this
explanation of the Dhobie. I give it for what it is worth. The
subject is interesting and practical.

Did you ever open your handkerchief with the suspicion that you had
got a duster into your pocket by mistake, till the name of De Souza
blazoned on the corner showed you that you were wearing someone
else's property? An accident of this kind reveals a beneficent
branch of the Dhobie's business, one in which he comes to the relief
of needy respectability. Suppose yourself (if you can) to be Mr.
Lobo, enjoying the position of first violinist in a string band which
performs at Parsee weddings and on other festive occasions. Noblesse
oblige; you cannot evade the necessity for clean shirt-fronts, ill
able as your precarious income may be to meet it. In these
circumstances a Dhobie with good connections is what you require. He
finds you in shirts of the best quality at so much an evening, and
you are saved all risk and outlay of capital; you need keep no
clothes except a greenish black surtout and pants and an effective
necktie. In this way the wealth of the rich helps the want of the
poor without their feeling it, or knowing it--an excellent
arrangement. Sometimes, unfortunately, Mr. Lobo has a few clothes of
his own, and then, as I have hinted, the Dhobie may exchange them by
mistake, for he is uneducated and has much to remember; but, if you
occasionally suffer in this way, you gain in another, for Mr. Lobo's
family are skilful with the needle, and I have sent a torn garment to