With the Serbs in Macedonia

GOING OVERSEAS 21
thoroughly, which, of course, is only another
way of saying that Malta did us— or tried to.
Malta, to a passer-by, is the sort of place that
somehow or other leaves a nasty taste in the
mouth. Like its inhabitants, it is very yellow
and bright when the sun shines, but the people
are not nice, and the spuriousness of its curios
and the rapacity of its shopkeepers are obvious
and irritating. Generalities, however, based
on a three days' visit are rather too insular, so
let me say merely that we had a quite amusing
time there and some very bad dinners.
The life and soul of our party was a solicitor
subaltern of ours. Watson, bargaining in an
hotel with a lace-vendor for things he never
intended to buy, reduced us to tears. He even
made the Maltese laugh, and solaced his feelings
with half a crown when we bade him farewell.
But Watson's greatest stunt was next day when
we hired a car and drove round the island.
After an excellent tea at an hotel by the water's
edge, where we wasted many pennies
on the
diving boys, Watson had an inspiration during
the return journey. Maltese peasants going
home after the day's work found themselves
saluted by four subalterns, who solemnly
raised their helmets in their best Regent Street
manner. The effect was delicious. Off came
the peasants' hats in response, and every one