vices—speaking no man's language and going masterfully about their business. The yellow brown of them where the sun has struck is great color, and their voices—blok-tok-chok—sound like little hammers beating on metal that does not resound. They are up the earliest, and to bed when work is done. Not so my Tamils—alas! they, with other wild crews, made night hideous and wailed in their cups. The beach where we were was six feet deep with shells for miles and miles. Do you wonder? Alexander of Macedon had pearls of these seas. Cleopatra's pearl came from a shell that was rotted on this beach. Hither for thousands of years the fishers have come, hence they have gone, and no fisher abideth long in one stay. And this fisher, Phylis, will have that beach in his nostrils till he does die.
And how am I to thank you for your letter, bringing a peace as of home into this wild life. And you say that I shall always be welcome in the great, cool house on the hill?
