A strange feature of this race is the number of Albinos to be found in it, and, since the white man became a familiar object to the Basuto, these poor hideous creatures are, by many of their more fortunate brethren, looked upon as quite lovely specimens of humanity. I know one policeman, who told me with great pride that he had married a white wife, who was very pretty. Would I not go to see her? I went, not quite understanding, for I had only been a short time in the country, and it was with great difficulty that I was able to disguise my feeling of repulsion. She was indeed hideous, poor creature, yet she quite gave herself the airs of a beauty, and smiled contentedly upon me, little dreaming of the feelings she was awakening. Since then I have seen a good many more, but never have I been able to conquer my strong dislike to these most unnatural-looking beings. There is one grave fault about a Mosuto, which is that he has no idea of truthfulness. To him it is no crime to tell a lie--in fact, he finds it an absolutely necessary virtue. It is at times quite ludicrous to hear the solemn and, to all seeming, most truthful account given you about some small episode by an open-faced, honest-looking Mosuto, when all the time you are in a position to know that there is hardly a word of truth in what he is saying. I have tried to make them understand how wrong it is to tell such falsehoods, but, beyond a half shame-faced and wholly mischievous smile, my words never seemed to have much effect.