ing bound him to it except a sentimental con- ception of loyalty, he never attempted to bridge from it.
But Umat's face is capable of yet another change. When his brown eyes blaze, when his features are distorted with excitement, and a torrent of hardly articulate words burst headlong from his lips, you may know that Umat is angry. A tumult of wrath- ful sound at the back of the bungalow, where the servants congregate in the covered way which joins the kitchen to the main building, begins the uproar, and if you fail to interfere, some Chinese heads will infallibly be broken in several places. On inquiry it will prove that the cook has accused Ûmat of adulterating the milk, or that the water coolie, whose business it also is to make the kerosene lamps smell and smoke, has charged him with purloining the kerosene. No words can describe Ûmat's fury and indignation, if he be indeed guiltless, which is very rarely the case. If, on the other hand, the counts brought against him be true, he is a bad liar and his manner speedily betrays him, while his wrath fails to convince. Presently he will produce the bottle of lamp oil from the folds of his strong, and laughing sheepishly, will claim that praise should be his portion, since it is only half full. IIe will hang his head, assuming an attitude of exaggerated humil- ity, while he listens to my biting comments upon his grossly immoral conduct, ejaculating from time to time the question: "Where should the lice feed, if not upon the head?" and five minutes later the co-
