nny story about an English officer who was sent to Perim
to command the detachment. At the end of six months an official order
was sent for his transfer, because no one is expected to last longer
than six months without going crazy or committing suicide. To the great
surprise of the war office a letter came back stating that the officer
was quite contented at Perim, that he liked the peace and quiet of the
place, and begged that he be given leave to remain another six months.
The war office was amazed, and it gladly gave him the extension. At the
end of a year the same exchange of letters occurred and again he was
given the extension.

I don't know how long this continued, but in the end the war office
discovered that the officer had been in London having a good time while
a sergeant-major attended to the sending of the biannual letter. I
suppose the officer divided his pay with the sergeant-major. If he did
not he was a most ungrateful man.

The _Adolph Woermann_ is a German ship and is one of the best ones that
go down the east coast. Its passengers go to the British ports in
British East Africa, to the German ports in German East Africa, and to
several other ports in South Africa. Consequently the passengers are
about equally divided between the English and the Germans, with an
occasional Portuguese bound for Delagoa Bay or Mozambique.

When we first went aboard our party of four desired to secure a table by
ourselves. We were unsuccessful, however, and found it shared by a
peaceful old gentleman with whiskers. By crossing with gold the palm of
the chief steward, the old gentleman was shifted to a seat on the first
officer's right. Later we discovered that he was Sir Thomas Scanlon, the
first premier of South Africa, the man who gave Cecil Rhodes his start.

There were many interesting elements which made the cruise of the
_Woermann_ unusual. Mr. Boyce and his party of six were on board and
were on their way to photograph East Africa. They took moving pictures
of the various deck sports, also a bird's-eye picture of the ship, taken
from a camera suspended by a number of box kites, and also gave two
evenings of cinematograph entertainment.

There were also poker games, bridge games, and other forms of seaside
sports, all of which contributed to the gaiety of life in the Indian
Ocean. In the evening one might have imagined oneself at a London
music-hall, in the daytime at the Olympian games, and in the early
morni