But Ferdinand was too much devoted to the good things of life to retain the corsets permanently, and they were laid aside as his girth rapidly increased. As his ambrosial locks receded from his forehead, he transferred his affections to his beard, which began existence as a neat little “imperial” in the early days of his reign. It has now become a torpedo creation to which a highly-paid expert devotes the whole of his time, spending hours in the consideration of its proper training and nurture. [Illustration: Ferdinand in his uniform as Admiral of the Fleet.] [Illustration: Ferdinand in the national costume of Bulgaria.] This beard goes well with his favourite costumes. One of them is the Bulgarian national costume, which he has elaborated into a creation of fine linen and silks, with many a feminine touch in bright colours and delicate trimmings. The other is that of an admiral of the Bulgarian Navy, in which he was wont to receive British visitors of distinction, as being peculiarly suitable to the honour of a great Naval Power. Needless to say that Ferdinand becomes atrociously seasick if ever he trusts himself out of sight of land. But Ferdinand’s talent for designing costumes is so remarkable that he excited the envy and admiration of the most celebrated of Parisian man milliners, who was privileged to witness him at work with his silks and velvets. This artist has ever since cherished a malignant wish that the long-expected reverse might overtake the Bulgarian Czar, and that cruel fate might at the same time deprive him of his extensive inheritance. In that case, real scope might be found for his remarkable talents, and the women of the world would be the happier because of a Bulgarian revolution. I have already told of the disgust of Stambuloff at the Prince’s coronation creation of purple velvet and ermine. That is only one of the many triumphs Ferdinand has achieved with rich stuffs and anxious thought. He now has a special costume of his own design, suitable to every feast and holy day. Thus for the Easter feast he prepared a long mantle of crimson velvet of the order of St. Alexander, to mark the fact that he was a younger son. On St. George’s Day, April 23, he sports a robe of blue velvet slashed with silver; for in Bulgaria this day is the fête day of the military order of bravery, in which Ferdinand takes high rank. These creations are the result of many anxious days spent in his assassin-proof den, surrounded by his tame birds and the modest wild flowers from which he draws inspiration. His boyish hobbies were for flowers and birds, and with the mature man these tastes have become a veritable passion. His aviaries are reputed the finest in the world, and he can still occupy himself with the woes of a pet canary when all Europe is bathed in blood, and his rough adopted people are dying by tens of thousands.