stead of Macao. There the little vessel was found to be so stanch that she was sold for seven hundred Spanish dollars. Captain Wilson then took passage for England in an East Indiaman, and the young prince Lee Boo went with him. Arrived home, the commander made the guest a member of his own household, and sent him to school at Rotherhite, in London. He was of a bright mind and eager to learn, and his experiences and impressions make most entertaining reading.
Alas! he fell ill with small-pox after less than a year of exile from his distant island, and died in a few days. At the foot of his bed stood honest Tom Rose, the sailor who had served as an interpreter. At the sight of his tears, the boyish prince rebuked him, saying,
"Why should he be crying because Lee Boo die?" The doctor who attended him wrote in a letter to an official of the East India Company:
He expressed all his feelings to me in the most forcible and pathetic manner, put my head upon his heart, leant his head on my arm, and explained his uneasiness in breathing. But when I was gone he complained no more, showing that he complained with a view to be relieved, not to be pitied. In short, living or dying, he has given me a lesson which I shall never forget and surely for patience and fortitude he was an example worthy the imitation of a Stoic.
