the weekly local gazette.”

“But you have some kind of newspaper which circulates in Bridgetown,” I said. “Perhaps it is published in some other large town, perhaps in Mecco?” I suggested. (Mecco is the capital of Meccania.)

“We have no general newspaper published daily,” he replied.

I thought he had misunderstood me, so I begged him to bring me the local Gazette. He said he would try to get me a copy. Presently, while I was eating my supper, another official, dressed in a bright chocolate-coloured uniform with green facings, made his appearance. He explained that Inspector Stiff had gone home—it was then about seven o’clock or later—and that he was left in charge of the office. I had asked for a newspaper. For what purpose did I require a newspaper?

“Oh,” I said, “just to see the current news.”

“News what about?” he asked.

“About anything,” I replied. “One likes to see the newspaper to see what is going on.”

“But no one wants anything except for some purpose,” he replied, “and you have not explained the purpose for which you require a newspaper. Also, there are no general newspapers. There are the various gazettes issued by the different departments of Government, and there are a few local gazettes dealing with purely municipal matters. But until you have entered upon your authorised tour of observation, I should have no authority to supply you with any of these.”

What a fuss about such a trifle, I thought, and wished I had never troubled him. I apologised for making the request, whereupon he said, “If you wish for something to read after supper there is a case of books in the office, from which, no doubt, I can supply your needs.”

I thanked him, and presently went to see the books. There was a work on the Law in Relation to Foreign Observers, in three volumes; a History of the Development of Town Planning, in five volumes; a treatise on Sewage, in two volumes; a series of Reports on the various Municipal Departments of Bridgetown; an Encyclopædia of Building; and a few other works equally interesting. I took away a volume, hardly noticing what it was, intending to use it only as a means of inducing sleep, which it did most effectively.

I was awakened about half-past six next morning by the orderly in the grey uniform entering the bedroom to announce that my bath would be ready in five minutes, and that it was against the rules to be late. I promptly went into the bathroom and found the bath half filled with a thin, greeny-yellowish fluid which smelt like a strong disinfectant. The orderly explained that all foreigners were obliged to be disinfected in this way.

“But,” I said, “I was disinfected only yesterday.”

“The bath yesterday,” he explained, “was to ensure that you brought no disease into the country.”

“And what is this for?” I asked.

“This is to prevent you from contracting any new disease through the change in climate,” he answered.

I remarked that the authorities were very solicitous of the welfare of foreigners, to which he replied:

“Ah, we must look after ourselves; a sick man is a source of infection.”

I was told to remain in the bath forty-five minutes. I found I had no choice, for, once in, I had no power to get out.

At the end of the forty-five minutes the orderly came and lifted me out, turned on a shower bath, and said, “Breakfast in ten minutes.” My own clothes had been returned to me. I dressed quickly, ate my breakfast, which was the usual light continental early breakfast of rolls and coffee, and was preparing to leave the Police Office when the orderly informed me that Inspector of Foreigners Stiff was ready to see me.

“National Councillor Ming,” he began, as soon as I entered his room, “I find you have with you letters of introduction to several persons in Meccania.” (So my private papers had been closely scrutinised during the process of disinfection.) “You will, of course, not present these until you have received permission from the proper authority. In no case can this be given until a period of three months has elapsed. Now after completing these forms, in accordance with the Instructions I handed you yesterday, you will be authorised to begin your tour of observation in Bridgetown.” Here he handed me four forms. “You must first decide whether you mean to stay a week, or a month, or longer; for that will naturally determine the programme of your tour of observation. You cannot in any case leave without giving three clear days’ notice and completing your arrangements as to the place you are proceeding to.”

“Oh,” I said in some surprise, “I had no idea that would be necessary. I thought I would just look round, perhaps for a day or two, then go on to one of your other important cities and make my way by degrees to Mecco.”

“Then you cannot have read the Instruction Form No. 4, or you would know that is quite impossible. If you intend to stay a month, please fill up this blue form.”

“I think, perhaps, it would be better to say a week,” I replied; “then if I want to stay longer I suppose I could do so?”

“If you had read the Instructions you would have seen that the plan of a tour of a week is on quite a different scale from that of a tour of a fortnight or a month. You must decide now which you will take.”

I stuck to the week, and we filled up the necessary forms for Tour No. 1.

“Your conductor will be Sub-Conductor of Foreign Observers Sheep,” he said next.

“My conductor?” I exclaimed. “Is it necessary to have a conductor?”

“You are not still in Luniland,” he replied testily, “and I must again remind you that if you had read the extracts from the Law with reference to Foreign Observers you would not have asked the question. Sub-Conductor Sheep will be here in five minutes,” he said, evidently anxious to get rid of me, “and as soon as you have discharged this bill of expenses he will take you to the Hotel for Foreign Observers, and you will begin your tour.” Here he handed me a sort of invoice containing the following items:—

To food, 5s.; to bed, one night, 4s.; to medical examination, 10s.; to temporary garments, 2s.; to service, 2s.—total, 23s.

There was certainly nothing exorbitant about the charges; all the same, I grudged the 10s. for the medical examination.

CHAPTER II
BRIDGETOWN, TOUR No. 1

Sub-conductor of Foreign Observers Sheep came in as I was paying the bill. He was a well-set-up man about fifty, and had the appearance of an old Non-Com. He looked quiet and rather stolid. I never saw him smile during the whole week I was with him, but he was not offensive in his manner. Like Inspector Stiff he wore a green uniform, but one with fewer facings and with chocolate-coloured buttons. Before we started to walk across to the hotel he asked if I had got my pocket-diary. I fished out a small notebook, such as I had used in Luniland for marking engagements.

“That is of no use for the purpose,” he informed me. “You must have one like this”; and he showed me a book about six inches by four inches, with four pages for each day.

“Oh!” I said, “I shall never need all that; besides, it is spaced for a month only.”

In a perfectly matter-of-fact voice he said calmly, “Every person in Meccania uses a pocket-diary like this. You will find it indispensable