You can see him in the market-place or in the drinking-shops. Sometimes he lolls about with his thin cigarette on the Kingston tram cars, but more frequently he is to be found leaning on his walking-stick at the corners of mean streets. As a rule his straw hat is tilted in the fashion affected by the London office-boy when taking his lady-love for a Sunday stroll on Peckham Rye. His coat is cut in the tight American style, which may be admirable for the comfort of people who live in climates colder than that of Kingston, Jamaica. His trousering is vivid and lacking in style, and his yellow boots are cut with the easy grace of a working cobbler who also deals in pictures. The glory of his get-up is his collar. It may be that our Dandy is not rich enough to afford a frequent laundry bill, so that his collar is worn to the bitter end of its condition of starchiness. Nevertheless it is always there, encasing the neck, and twisting each discordant ear in a manner painful to behold. He walks with a curious strut—for all the world like a half-lame peacock; and when he meets any member of the fair sex he curls back his heavy lips and displays two rows of the whitest teeth. When he winks one is irresistibly reminded of the famous drill-sergeant who instructed his troop of country yeoman to “draw swords and twist your eyes round with a loud click.” The negro’s wink is a serious matter; it suggests a wealth of fearful possibilities. It is repellent, but alluring—frightfully attractive.

As a rule it is a youth who mixes much with the tourists that ventures in this unseemly manner to ogle the women and decorate the promenades. In his working hours the true Dandy is usually a call-boy at one of the hotels, or an assistant waiter. It is not at all certain that he is a single man; probably he has a young wife who takes in washing, or cleans the boots at some boarding-house. But his better half is never to be seen at his side when he dons his yellow boots and crimson necktie and goes for his Sunday stroll. He feels that it would be foolish to permit the dowdy rags of his working spouse to discount the glory of his rich attire. So he twists his cigarette (he cannot afford to light it since he has not got another) in his brass ringed fingers, and struts and grins in solitary grandeur.

It is his earnest hope that he may find some chance acquaintance, who, having more money but less magnificent attire, may invite him to drink in order that he may gain a sort of reflected splendour. So every friend he meets is hailed with a great gusto; even the working busmen in their shabby driving clothes are not beneath his notice, and he would be proud to clasp the hand of a coloured scavenger provided there was the remotest chance of finding such a person with a few Jamaican pennies. Your true Dandy is never exclusive; he is an adventurer pure and simple; and he dresses in the highest height of fashion, partly from great vanity and partly because he will not advertise his poverty. Sometimes he meets one of his own tribe, and then Dandy walks with Dandy and there is a heavy music of negro laughter. Together they are bold as half-tamed lions. They accost a white man and ask for a match or a cigarette; they will even raise their tiny hats to the wives of high officials. Then they make a tour round the rum shops and enter each, hoping to find a friend or make a new acquaintance. If they pass the ancient market-women selling sweet stuffs, they will exercise their wit at her expense, and the ends of their slender canes will disturb her fly-blown dainties; if she is not extremely quick of sight, they will thieve a sugar stick or two, and munch them in the open street; they exhibit a profound contempt for the law of petty larceny. Though the sticky stuffs will not improve the condition of their lips and fingers, the dirty face smudges will exhibit to an admiring world the fact that they have eaten luxuriously.

When our pair of gallants meet a lady whose acquaintance they desire, they introduce themselves with a playful prod with their walking-canes; if the damsel should resent this undue familiarity, she must endure a long and loud chorus of personalities. For the Dude is lacking in the elements of chivalrous refinement. But as a rule the lady is proud to be conquered by such a duet of splendour. She submits to the playful gallantries of the couple, and takes her full part in the round of boisterous persiflage.

Great joy fills the heart of Dandy when a cynical busman sarcastically hails them with “Want a bus, sah?” No matter how fascinating the lady who at that particular moment may be engaging his attention, he steps in the roadway and loudly asks the fare to the swellest hotel he can think of. The grinning busman replies, and then there is much bargaining done in the loudest tones in the public highroad. It is a game of make-believe. The busman pretends that he has found a possible fare, the Dandy pretends that he wanted to be driven to a certain place for a certain sum. Such a scene does not suggest amusement to the Englishman, but it is rare sport to the penniless Dude and superior busman. The end comes only when the busman sees a really possible customer and whips his horse along; then the Dude assumes an air of offended dignity and resumes his conversation with the lady. It is truly a brainless, exquisite Dandy.

With similar characteristics but employing very different methods is the coloured lady of extreme fashion. She dresses as extravagantly as the dandiest Dandy; she wears vivid colours in cheap silks or heavy brocades or velvets; she affects coloured picture-hats of huge dimensions, and her foot-wear is always made in brilliant patent-leather; but she is not so poor or

so adventurous as the Dandy. She is careful in her conversation. A polite accent is her chief ambition. She simpers and lisps and uses pigeon English, and when she is forced to laugh she screens her face with a scented cambric handkerchief. She is a coloured lady, and not the richest, boldest busman dare claim her friendship, though it may be that one of them is her husband. Her friends are among the chapel people; the preachers, the deacons, and the gentleman of the choir. She will condescend to notice West Indian non-commissioned officers, but in doing this she is reaching to her lowest limit. Her ambition is to be counted rich and beautiful. She is a lady of colour and fashion. Call her a negress and she will faint with indignant shame. Her husband is a citizen with a vote, and she is his lady. Though she parades the High Streets her object is simply to be admired. Though she is an absolute coquette, her desire is not to make chance acquaintance with the unimportant natives on the side walks. If a white man, or a rich man who is nearly white, looks and looks again—well that of course is a different matter.

Harmless types, both of them. Both the Dandy and the coloured lady of extreme fashion are amusing, picturesque, and harmless. They have elected to play droll parts in the game of life; it may be that they lack perspective, but certainly they possess great imagination. Their’s is a part of make-believe, and they play it with great seriousness.