anion and
said, as if struck with his discovery, "the language of these foreign
barbarians sounds not unlike our own!"

In Bhamo I had the pleasure of meeting the three members of the Boundary
Commission who represented us in some preliminary delimitation questions
with the Chinese Government. A better choice could not have been made.
M. Martini, a Frenchman, has been twenty years in Upper Burma, and is
our D.S.P. (District Superintendent of Police). Mr. Warry, the Chinese
adviser to the Burmese Government, is one of the ablest men who ever
graduated from the Consular Staff in China; while Captain H. R. Davies,
of the Staff Corps, who is on special duty in the Intelligence
Department, is not only an exceptionally able officer, but is the most
accomplished linguist of Upper Burma. These were the three
representatives.

I sold my pony in Bhamo. I was exceedingly sorry to part with it, for it
had come with me 800 miles in thirty days, over an unusually difficult
road, at great variations of altitude, and amid many changes of climate.
And it was always in good spirit, brave and hardy, carrying me as surely
the last twenty miles as it had the first twenty. Yet, when I came to
sell it, I was astonished to learn how many were its defects. Its
height, which was 12.3 in Nampoung, had shrunk three days later to 11.3
in Bhamo. This one subaltern told me who came to look at the pony with
the view, he said, of making me an offer. Another officer proved to me
that the off foreleg was gone hopelessly; a third confirmed this
diagnosis of his friend, and in a clinical lecture demonstrated that the
poor beast was spavined, and that its near hind frog was rotten, "as all
Chinese ponies' are," he added. One of the mounted constabulary, a smart
officer, fortunately discovered in time that the pony was a roarer;
while the Hungarian Israelite who lends help on notes of hand,
post-obits, personal applications, and other insecurities, and is on
terms of friendly intimacy with most of the garrison, when about to make
an offer, found, to his great regret, that the pony's hind legs were
even more defective than the fore. The end of it was that I had to sell
the pony--for what it cost me. I am indebted to the Reverend Mr.
Roberts, of the American Baptist Mission, for helping me to sell my
pony. Mr. Roberts has a pious gift for buying ponies and selling
them--at a profit. He offered me 40 rupees for my pony. I mentioned this
offer at the Bhamo Clu