THE TRIBES ON MY FRONTIER. 



among the folds of hanging coats, inside boots, in the pocket 

 of the dressing-gown, in the chambers of the sola topee ; 

 and there they are ! And what is to be done ? 



Well, by dusting and sweeping, and burning incense and 

 folding all hanging clothes, you can make them very un- 

 happy ; and, for your own protection, you can make your- 

 self utterly abominable to them by anointing your hands 

 and face with toilet vinegar, or even eau-de-Cologne. But it 

 is clear that the thing to do would be to come upon the 

 sanguinary hordes in their earlier stages, and nip them in 

 the bud, cut them off while they are only mosquitos in posse, 

 not in esse. And this can be done, for, when a house is 

 much plagued with them, it may be set down for certain 

 that there is a factory on the premises. The first thing to 

 do, then, is to make a tour of inspection. Go to the back of 

 the kitchen and see if there is not a small cistern, or a tub 

 sunk in the ground, connected by a short pipe through the 

 wall with the arena of all Domingo's professional operations, 

 a veritable Dead Sea, where baleful streams run in, but no- 

 thing runs out. There, in the inky fluid, on which a filmy 

 scum floats, whose rainbow radiance is broken only by the 

 spluttering of the bills of happy ducks, you will find them 

 in writhing swarms, sixteen to the superficial inch, fast 



