Maria Graham tells us that inside her time "the Dirdjees, or tailors, inBombay" were "Hindoos of respectable caste," but in these days theGoanese, who has not capacity to be a butler or cook, becomes aDirzee, and in Bombay I sometimes have seen Bunniah Dirzees. Hurree can holdhis own against these, I doubt not, but the advancing tide ofcivilization is surely crumbling down his foundations. It is notonly the "Europe" shop in Bombay that takes the bread out of hismonth, but in the tinyest and most remote stations, Narayen,"Tailor, 0utfitter, Milliner, and Dressmaker," hangs out his sign-board, and under it pale, consumptive youths of the Shimpee castebend over their work by lamplight, and sing the song of the shirt tothe whirr-rr-rr of sewing machines. And as Hurree goes by on his wayhome, his prophetic soul tells him that his son will not live thehappy and independent life which has fallen to his lot. But he has abulwark still in the dhobie, for the "Tailor and 0utfitter" will notrepair frayed cuffs, and the sewing machine cannot put on buttons.And Hurree is not ungrateful, for I observe that, when the dhobiedelivers up your clothes in a state which requires the Dirzee, theDirzee always gives them back in a condition which demands thedhobie.