The Silken East a
swathed in a single garment of blue cloth. She had brown eyes and dark ringlets, and was so frightened at being photographed, that she broke into tears, and was with difficulty reassured. As it was, the tears lay in a rim about her eyes long after she had ceased to cry ; and she could not be persuaded to resume the pole, which she used at the prow of her father's boat with infinite grace. Behind her in the
THE GIRL . , ,
recesses ot the boat crouched her grandmother, a midnight hagatype of the terrible old age of the Salon woman. I do not suppose that there is anywhere in the world any one more ugly than an old woman of the Salon.
Some of the men plunged with harpoons, to show me how they did it, and the exhibition was greeted with