population, and they are becoming an increasing faction in the town,
by no means to the pleasure of the Christians.

But to the casual visitor at Sierra Leone the Mohammedan is a mere
passing sensation. You neither feel a burning desire to laugh with,
or at him, as in the case of the country folks, nor do you wish to
punch his head, and split his coat up his back--things you yearn to
do to that perfect flower of Sierra Leone culture, who yells your
bald name across the street at you, condescendingly informs you that
you can go and get letters that are waiting for you, while he smokes
his cigar and lolls in the shade, or in some similar way displays
his second-hand rubbishy white culture--a culture far lower and less
dignified than that of either the stately Mandingo or the bush
chief. I do not think that the Sierra Leone dandy really means half
as much insolence as he shows; but the truth is he feels too
insecure of his own real position, in spite of all the "side" he
puts on, and so he dare not be courteous like the Mandingo or the
bush Fan.

It is the costume of the people in Free Town and its harbour that
will first attract the attention of the newcomer, notwithstanding
the fact that the noise, the smell, and the heat are simultaneously
making desperate bids for that favour. The ordinary man in the
street wears anything he may have been able to acquire, anyhow, and
he does not fasten it on securely. I fancy it must be capillary
attraction, or some other partially-understood force, that takes
part in the matter. It is certainly neither braces nor buttons.
There are, of course, some articles which from their very structure
are fairly secure, such as an umbrella with the stick and ribs
removed, or a shirt. This last-mentioned treasure, which usually