Fanny Parkes, aged six, said, ''Papa, how very funny all those ugly men look!" and if she had been aged sixty she could not have made a more apt remark. The yellow, featureless faces, all alike, the bullet-shaped craniums, the coarse cropped hair bristling up from the head, the flat chests, round shoulders, and lean, ill-shaped legs, were exhibited in all their ugliness in western dress, for the first, and I hope for the last time. The clothes looked as if they had all been made for one man, and that man not one of the forty who were present. It is true that they had got into them, but that is very different from wearing them. They stood in one deplorable attitude, with lean arms hanging limp by their sides, hands crammed into badly-fitting white kid gloves, and looking like miscreants awaiting castigation.