We are not zet quite clear how it happened, but the coolie's new wife has come to live with us—in the servants' quarters. Mick, the coolie, fas we have already written is one of Nature's humble gentlemen, one of tthe sort of men who apologize to the tun for giving it the trouble of shining on them. We were walking round the house the other morning the wife, neatly Dut efficient looking. One women who stands on two fast, firmly, and gives one the it, forbidding look, who Beuntath her hips a she walketh, the embodiment of poise. If we hadn't gulped nervously we should probably have said "good morning" or something equally futile: as it was we ducked into the dining room and scalded ourself with coffee.
"Who man, Wong?" we asked when that worthy came into the oom.
"No E'long who man' belong we man," responded the freshness of the morning.
"Well, what, thing?" we bark feeling a little bit irritable about the night befor "B'long cootie wife'
We smiled, then we ttered and Wong gazed severely at us, but {hot a sign of emotion swept over his "What thing she do this side?"
"Come look-see urban'.
"Well, it's worth the journey," we fetorred and the incident dropped, We saw her hanging round the Bouse now and again, plying the mop the verandah and'on one occasion fending a pair of felt slippers of
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.