every year with their produce, and after disposing of it here, take back the few things they require."

"Indeed!" said I, as I walked away, after paying my subscription and Kabob's-" indeed!"

There are few things that men are more disposed to conceal than ignorance. It requires a good deal of resolution to say-"I don't know anything about it," when your companion makes an observation that puzzles

you.

"Strange that they should put a contralto and a soprano together," said a gentleman who was sitting beside a friend of mine at one of the concerts in Exeter Hall the other night-a friend utterly ignorant of the very elements of musical lore.

Very strange indeed," was his reply, whilst he had no very definite idea as to what either a contralto or a soprano was, and, therefore, could not see, of course, why they should not be put together.

66

Very strange indeed," was my friend's

reply, as he looked into the face of the

gentleman who had made the observation to see that he was quite serious; he had not the moral fortitude to say that he really did not know what a contralto or a soprano

was.

Do you think, under similar circumstances —supposing such an amount of ignorance possible in your case, good sir or madam-do you think, under similar circumstances, you would have answered more honestly-would you not mutter "Yes" or "Hem," or some other unmeaning expletive of assent, rather than confess that you did not see anything strange in it? If you would say so-as, perhaps, nine out of ten would, from various motives-some not to give offence, some to avoid the appearance of ignorance, some to be polite -if you would, then do not be astonished that I walked out of Messrs. Roggeweld and Stallenbosch's office without asking where the Tristan D'Acunha Islands were, or without informing the clerk that, up to that moment, I was profoundly ignorant of their existence.

Verily, human nature is a strange thing, and we, living representatives of that human

nature--you and I, good sir, you and I, good madam,—are strange people. Let me conclude with Shakespeare, however, "an odd man, lady, every man is odd."

But although I felt my ignorance, and was ashamed of it, I had no idea of sitting down quietly under it and suffering it; no, I made up my mind to rout it forthwith, not to endure it on any account.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON AND KING GLASS.

THE Tristan D'Acunha Islands," I muttered to myself, as I made my way that day through the streets of Cape Town to my lodgings in the suburbs-" the Tristan D'Acunha Islands, where can they be?"

I met Mrs. Dordrecht, my good landlady, on the stairs, as I made my way to my sitting

room.

"Where are the Tristan D'Acunha Islands, Mrs. Dordrecht ?" I asked.

Mrs. Dordrecht did not know-had never heard of them before-was not quite sure that such islands were in existence at all-smiled faintly as she replied, to show that she discovered some profound witticism in the ques

tion, a witticism hidden from the

eyes

and un

derstanding of an ordinary mortal like myself. "You really don't know ?" I asked again.

"I don't know," said she, with the prettiest foreign accent, and as simply as possible.

"The Tristan D'Acunha Islands !" I exclaimed, as I threw myself on a couch, when I had reached my room, "where can they be ?" The few books I had brought with me to the Cape did not include a Gazetteer, nor had the deceased Dordrecht, worthy man, left a Gazetteer amongst his books to his excellent spouse, now a widow, my landlady.

"I must discover where those islands are," said I, putting on my hat, and sallying out again; "how stupid I was, not to ask the clerk something about them."

I bent my steps directly to the library in which I was accustomed to see the papers, and to chat with such idlers as presented themselves.

"Do you know anything about the Tristan D'Acunha Islands ?" I asked of the librarian, who daily retailed the gossip of the Cape to all quidnunc loungers.

No;

he did not know; had some faint idea