many causes had contributed. First of all, I had an unfortunate love,—that was in those days my daily bread;—but, moreover, I found myself in a state between two attacks of ambition. I had made myself a king, and been dethroned, I had climbed up a tower, and had fallen down again to the ground. . . . I shall now pass by the reason of this. Enough, I was sitting there in that pirogue with a sour face and a bad humour; I was, as the Germans call it, ungeniessbar. I thought it derogatory to inspect pepper-fields, and that I ought a long time ago to have had the appointment of governor of a solar system. Moreover, I thought it moral murder to put a spirit like mine in a pirogue with that stupid datoo and his child. I have to tell you that generally speaking I liked the Malay chiefs very much, and harmonized well with them. They even possess qualities which make me prefer them to the Javanese grandees. Yes, I know, Verbrugge, that you do not agree with me in this matter, there are but few who do. . . but I leave this question now. If I had performed this voyage on another day, when less restless, I should perhaps immediately, have commenced a conversation with this datoo, and perhaps have found that it was worth my while. Perhaps the little girl would have spoken too, and that would have entertained me; for a child has generally something original,—though I was still myself too much a child to take an interest in originality. Now this is otherwise; now I see in every girl of thirteen
