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# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Lyall, Sir Charles James

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​Lyall, Sir Charles James, M.A., L.L.D., K.C.S.I., (1897) C.I.E., (1880), I.C.S., (retired); b. 1845; s. of late Charles Lyall of Sussex Gardens, W; m. Lawrence Lyall, d. of Henry Fraser, 1870; educ: Kings College School, and Balliol College, Oxford; joined service, 1867; became Under Secretary to Government, N. W. Provinces, 1871-72; Under Secretary to Government of India in Revenue, Agriculture, and Commerce Department, 1876-80; Secretary to Chief Commissioner, Assam, 1880-83; Judge and Commissioner, Assam Valley Districts, 1883-84; Secretary to Government of India, 1886; again Secretary to Chief Commissioner, Assam, 1887; Judge and Commissioner of Assani Valley Districts, 1888-89; Secretary to Government of India, 1889-94; Chief Commissioner, Assam, 1894; Chief Commissioner, Central Provinces, 1895-98; Secretary, India Offie, 1898-1910. Publications: Translations of Ancient Arabic Poetry; edition of 10 Ancient Arabic Poems; articles in Encyclopaedia Britanica. Address: S.S. Cornwall Gardens, S.W. Club: Athenaeum.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Lyall, Sir James Broadwood

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​Lyall, Sir James Broadwood, K.C.S.I.. (1893), G.C.I.E., I.C.S., (retired); b. England, 1838; s. of Rev. Alfred Lyall, Rector of Harbledown, Kent; m. Katherine, d. of Rev. J. Cantly, 1874; educ: Eton; Haileybury College; joined service in Bengal, 1857; arrived in India, 1858; joined the Punjab Commission, 1859; Resident in Mysore and Chief Commissioner of Coorg, 1883-87; Lieut.-Governor, Punjab, 1887-92, visited China, Japan, Canada and the U.S.A. 1893; was appointed Member, Royal Commission on Opinion; revisited India in that capacity, 1893; President, Indian Finance Commission, 1898. Recreations: Golf, Cycling, Shooting. Address: Statenborough House, Eastry, Dover. Club: Athenaeum.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/MacBean, Major-General Forbes

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​MacBean, Major-General Forbes, C.V.O. (1905); b. 1857; s. of Colonel Forbes MacBean; educ: at Uppingham; entered the Army, 1876; served in the Afghan War, 1879-80; in engagements at Kabul and the march to Kandahar; Transvaal Campaign: 1881; Tirah Expedition, 1897-98; severely wounded; South African War, 1899-1902; became Captain, 1884; Major, 1893; C.B., and Brevet-Colonel, 1902; Colonel, 1905; Major-General, 1911; A.D.C. to H.M. the Emperor, 1907-11; Club: Army and Navy.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Lyall, David Robert

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​Lyall, David Robert, C.S.I.,(1891); b. Ouchterlony House, Forfarshire, N.B., 1841; e.s. of late David Lyall; m. Laura Agnus, d. of late Major-General W. J. B. Knyvett, 1866; educ: Edinburgh Academy; joined service; in Bengal, 1861; acted in various lower grades and became Inspector General of Police, L.P., 1883-87; Commissioner of Chittagong, 1887-91; Commissioner of Patna, 1891-92; Member, Board of Revenue and Legislative Council, 1892-96; retired, 1896; Civil Political Officer with Chin Lushai Expedition, 1888 (medal and clasp); President of Committee to inquire into Military and Public Works expenditure, Simla, 1894; Superintendent, Kooch Bihar State, 1896-99. Recreations: ​Cricket, Racqets, Shooting. Address: Metherclay House: Bishop’s Hull, Taunton. Clubs: The East India United Service.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5

THE
LIFE
AND
OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gentleman.
VOL. V.
LONDON:
Printed for T. Becket and P. A. Dehondt, in the Strand. M DCC LXII.
To the Right Honourable
JOHN,
Lord Viscount SPENCER.
My Lord,
I humbly beg leave to offer you these two Volumes; they are the best my talents, with such bad health as I have, could produce:—had providence granted me a larger stock of either, they had been a much more proper present to your Lordship.
​I beg your Lordship will forgive me, if, at the same time I dedicate this work to you, I join Lady Spencer, in the liberty I take of inscribing the story of Le Fever in the sixth volume to her name; for which I have no other motive, which my heart has informed me of, but that the story is a humane one.
* Chapter I.
* Chapter II.
* Chapter III.
* Chapter IV.
* Chapter V.
* Chapter VI.
* Chapter VII.
* Chapter VIII.
* Chapter IX.
* Chapter X.
* Chapter XI.
* Chapter XII.
* Chapter XIII.
* Chapter XIV.
* Chapter XV.
* Chapter XVI.
* Chapter XVII.
* Chapter XVIII.
* Chapter XIX.
* Chapter XX.
* Chapter XXI.
* Chapter XXII.
* Chapter XXIII.
* Chapter XXIV.
* Chapter XXV.
* Chapter XXVI.
* Chapter XXVII.
* Chapter XXVIII.
* Chapter XXIX.
* Chapter XXX.
* Chapter XXXI.
* Chapter XXXII.
* Chapter XXXIII.
* Chapter XXXIV.
* Chapter XXXV.
* Chapter XXXVI.
* Chapter XXXVII.
* Chapter XXXVIII.
* Chapter XXXIX.
* Chapter XL.
* Chapter XLI.
* Chapter XLII.
* Chapter XLIII.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 12

CHAP. XII.
——— But to return to my mother.
My uncle Toby's opinion, Madam, "that there could be no harm in Cornelius Gallus, the Roman prætor's lying with his wife;"—or rather the last word of that opinion,—(for it was all my mother heard of it) caught hold of her by the weak part of the whole sex:—You shall not mistake me,—I mean her curiosity,—she instantly concluded herself the subject of the conversation, and with that prepossession upon her fancy, you will readily conceive every ​word my father said, was accommodated either to herself, or her family concerns.
———Pray, Madam, in what street does the lady live, who would not have done the same?
From the strange mode of Cornelius's death, my father had made a transition to that of Socrates, and was giving my uncle Toby an abstract of his pleading before his judges;—'twas irresistable:—not the oration of Socrates,—but my father's temptation to it.—He had wrote theLife of Socrates himself the year before he left off trade, which, I ​fear, was the means of hastening him out of it;—so that no one was able to set out with so full a sail, and in so swelling a tide of heroic loftiness upon the occasion, as my father was. Not a period in Socrates's oration, which closed with a shorter word than transmigration, or annihilation,—or a worse thought in the middle of it than to be—or not to be,—the entering upon a new and untried state of things,—or, upon a long, a profound and peaceful sleep, without dreams, without disturbance;—That we and our children were born to die,—but neither of us born to be slaves.—No—there I mistake; that was part of Eleazer's oration, as recorded by Josephus (de Bell. Judaic.)—Eleazer owns he had it from the philosophers of India; in all likelihood Alexander the Great, in his irruption into India, after he had ​over-run Persia, amongst the many things he stole,—stole that sentiment also; by which means it was carried, if not all the way by himself, (for we all know he died at Babylon) at least by some of his maroders, into Greece,—from Greece it got to Rome,—from Rome to France,—and from France to England:—So things come round.———
By land carriage I can conceive no other way.———
By water the sentiment might easily have come down the Ganges into the Sinus Gangeticus, or Bay of Bengal, and so into the Indian Sea; and following the course of trade, (the way from India by the Cape of Good Hope being then unknown) might be carried with other drugs and spices up the Red Sea to Jod​dah, the port of Mekka, or else to Tor or Sues, towns at the bottom of the gulf; and from thence by karrawans to Coptos, but three days journey distant, so down the Nile directly to Alexandria, where the sentiment would be landed at the very foot of the great stair-case of the Alexandrian library,—and from that store-house it would be fetched.—Bless me! what a trade was driven by the learned in those days!
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 13

CHAP. XIII.
——— Now my father had a way, a little like that of Job's (in case there ever was such a man—if not, there's an end of the matter.—
Though, by the bye, because your learned men find some difficulty in fix- ​ing the precise æra in which so great a man lived;—whether, for instance, before or after the patriarchs, &c.—to vote, therefore, that he never lived at all, is a little cruel,—'tis not doing as they would be done by—happen that as it may)—My father, I say, had a way, when things went extremely wrong with him, especially upon the first sally of his impatience,—of wondering why he was begot,—wishing himself dead;—sometimes worse:—And when the provocation ran high, and grief touched his lips with more than ordinary powers,—Sir, you scarce could have distinguished him from Socrates himself.—Every word would breathe the sentiments of a soul disdaining life, and careless about all its issues; for which reason, though my mother was a woman of no deep reading, yet the abstract ​of Socrates's oration, which my father was giving my uncle Toby, was not altogether new to her.—She listened to it with composed intelligence, and would have done so to the end of the chapter, had not my father plunged (which he had no occasion to have done) into that part of the pleading where the great philosopher reckons up his connections, his alliances, and children; but renounces a security to be so won by working upon the passions of his judges.—"I have friends—I have relations,—I have three desolate children,"—says Socrates.—
—Then, cried my mother, opening the door,—you have one more, Mr. Shandy, than I know of.
By heaven! I have one less,—said my father, getting up and walking out of the room.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 15

CHAP. XV.
Had this volume been a farce, which, unless every one's life and opinions are to be looked upon as a farce as well as mine, I see no reason to suppose—the last chapter, Sir, had finished ​the first act of it, and then this chapter must have set off thus.
Ptr..r..r..ing—twing—twang—prut—trut—'tis a cursed bad fiddle.—Do you know whether my fiddle's in tune or no?—trut..prut..—They should be fifths.—'Tis wickedly strung—tr...a.e.i.o.u.-twang.—The bridge is a mile too high, and the sound-post absolutely down,—else—trut..prut—hark! 'tis not so bad a tone.—Diddle diddle, diddle diddle, diddle diddle, dum. There is nothing in playing before good judges,—but there's a man there—no—not him with the bundle under his arm—the grave man in black.—S'death! not the gentleman with the sword on.—Sir, I had rather play a Caprichio to Calliope herself, than draw my bow across my fiddle before that very man; and yet, I'll stake my Cremona to a Jew's trump, which is the greatest musical odds that ​ever were laid, that I will this moment stop three hundred and fifty leagues out of tune upon my fiddle, without punishing one single nerve that belongs to him.—Twaddle diddle, tweddle diddle,—twiddle diddle,—twoddle diddle, twuddle diddle,—prut-trut—krish—krash—krush.—I've undone you, Sir,—but you see he is no worse,—and was Apollo to take his fiddle after me, he can make him no better.
Diddle diddle, diddle diddle, diddle diddle—hum—dum—drum.
—Your worships and your reverences love musick—and God has made you all with good ears—and some of you play delightfully yourselves—trut-prut,—prut-trut.
O! there is—whom I could sit and hear whole days,—whose talents lie in making what he fiddles to be felt,—who inspires ​me with his joys and hopes, and puts the most hidden springs of my heart into motion.—If you would borrow five guineas of me, Sir,—which is generally ten guineas more than I have to spare—or you, Messrs. Apothecary and Taylor, want your bills paying,—that's your time.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 11

CHAP. XI.
I am a Turk if I had not as much forgot my mother, as if Nature had plaistered me up, and set me down naked upon the banks of the river Nile, without one.—Your most obedient servant, Madam—I've cost you a great deal of trouble,—I wish it may answer;—but you have left a crack in my back,—and here's a great piece fallen off here before,—and what must I do with this foot?—I shall never reach England with it.
​For my own part I never wonder at any thing;—and so often has my judgment deceived me in my life, that I always suspect it, right or wrong,—at least I am seldom hot upon cold subjects. For all this, I reverence truth as much as any body; and when it has slipped us, if a man will but take me by the hand, and go quietly and search for it, as for a thing we have both lost, and can neither of us do well without,—I'll go to the world's end with him:—But I hate disputes,—and therefore (bating religious points, or such as touch society) I would almost subscribe to any thing which does not choak me in the first passage, rather than be drawn into one—But I cannot bear suffocation,—and bad smells worst of all.—For which reasons, I resolved from the be​ginning. That if ever the army of martyrs was to be augmented,—or a new one raised,—I would have no hand in it, one way or t'other.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 14

CHAP. XIV.
They are Socrates's children, said my uncle Toby. He has been dead a hundred years ago, replied my mother.
My uncle Toby was no chronologer—so not caring to advance a step but upon safe ground, he laid down his pipe deliberately upon the table, and rising up, and taking my mother most kindly by the hand, without saying another word, either good or bad, to her, he led her out after my father, that he might finish the ecclaircissment himself.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 5/Chapter 17

CHAP. XVII.
———' Twas nothing,—I did not lose two drops of blood by it—'twas not worth calling in a surgeon, had he lived next door to us—thousands suffer by choice, what I did by accident.—Doctor Slop made ten times more of it, than there was occasion:—some men rise, by the art of hanging great weights upon small wires,—and I am this day (August the 10th, 1761) paying part of the price of this man's reputation.—O 'twould provoke a stone, to see how things are carried on in this world!—The chamber-maid had left no ******* *** under the bed:—Cannot you contrive, master, quoth Susannah, lifting up the sash with one hand, as she spoke, and helping me up into the window seat with the other,—cannot you manage, my dear, ​for a single time to **** *** ** *** ******?
I was five years old.—Susannah did not consider that nothing was well hung in our family,—so slap came the sash down like lightening upon us;—Nothing is left,—cried Susannah,—nothing is left—for me, but to run my country.———
My uncle Toby's house was a much kinder sanctuary; and so Susannah fled to it.
# The Jungle Book (Century edition)/Road-Song of the Bandar-log

ROAD-SONG OF THE BANDAR-LOG
Here we go in a flung festoon, Half-way up to the jealous moon! Don't you envy our pranceful bands? Don't you wish you had extra hands? Wouldn't you like if your tails were—so— Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow? Now you're angry, but—never mind, Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
Here we sit in a branchy row. Thinking of beautiful things we know; Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do. All complete, in a minute or two— Something noble and grand and good, Won by merely wishing we could. Now we're going to—never mind. Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
All the talk we ever have heard Uttered by bat or beast or bird— Hide or fin or scale or feather— Jabber it quickly and all together! Excellent! Wonderful! Once again! Now we are talking just like men. Let 's pretend we are…never mind, Brother, thy tail hangs down behind! This is the way of the Monkey-kind.
Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines, That rocket by where, light and high, the wild-grape swings. By the rubbish in our wake, and the noble noise we make, Be sure, be sure, we're going to do some splendid things!
# The Jungle Book (Century edition)/Preface

PREFACE
THE demands made by a Work of this nature upon the generosity of specialists are very numerous; and the Editor would be wanting in all title to the generous treatment he has received were he not willing to make the fullest possible acknowledgment of his indebtedness.
His thanks are due, in the first place, to the scholarly and accomplished Bahadur Shah, baggage-elephant Number 174 on the Indian Register, who, with his amiable sister Pudmini, most courteously supplied the history of "Toomai of the Elephants" and much of the information contained in "Her Majesty's Servants." The adventures of Mowgli were collected at various times, and in various places, from a multitude ​of informants, most of whom desire to preserve the strictest anonymity. Yet, at this distance, the Editor feels at liberty to thank an Asiatic gentleman of the old rock, an esteemed resident of the upper slopes of Jakko, for his convincing if somewhat caustic estimate of the national characteristics of his caste—the Presbytes. Ikki, a savant of infinite research and industry; a member of the recently disbanded Seeonee Pack; and an artist well known at most of the local fairs of Southern India, where his muzzled dance with his master attracts the youth, beauty, and culture of many villages, have contributed most valuable data of people, manners, and customs. These have been freely drawn upon in the stories of "Tiger! Tiger!" "Kaa's Hunting," and "Mowgli's Brothers." For the outlines of "Rikki-tikki-tavi" the Editor stands indebted to one of the leading herpetologists of Upper India, a fearless and independent investigator, who, resolving "not to live but know," lately sacrificed his life through over-application to the study of our Eastern Thanatophidia.
​A happy incident of travel enabled the Editor, then a passenger on the Empress of India, to be of some slight assistance to a fellow-voyager. How richly his poor services were repaid, readers of "The White Seal" may judge for themselves.
# The Jungle Book (Century edition)/Shiv and the Grasshopper

SHIV AND THE GRASSHOPPER
(THE SONG THAT TOOMAI'S MOTHER SANG TO THE BABY)
Shiv, who poured the harvest and made the winds to blow. Sitting at the doorways of a day of long ago, Gave to each his portion, food and toil and fate, From the King upon the guddee to the Beggar at the gate. All things made he—Shiva the Preserver, Mahadeo! Mahadeo! he made all,— Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine, And mother's heart for sleepy head, O little son of mine!
​Wheat he gave to rich folk, millet to the poor, Broken scraps for holy men that beg from door to door; Cattle to the tiger, carrion to the kite, And rags and bones to wicked wolves without the wall at night. Naught he found too lofty, none he saw too low— Parbati beside him watched them come and go; Thought to cheat her husband, turning Shiv to jest— Stole the little grasshopper and hid it in her breast. So she tricked him, Shiva the Preserver. Mahadeo! Mahadeo! turn and see. Tall are the camels, heavy are the kine, But this was least of little things, O little son of mine!
When the dole was ended, laughingly she said, "Master, of a million mouths is not one unfed?" Laughing, Shiv made answer, "All have had their part, Even he, the little one, hidden 'neath thy heart." From her breast she plucked it, Parbati the thief, Saw the Least of Little Things gnawed a new-grown leaf! Saw and feared and wondered, making prayer to Shiv, Who hath surely given meat to all that live. All things made he—Shiva the Preserver. Mahadeo! Mahadeo! he made all,— Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine, And mother's heart for sleepy head, O little son of mine!
# The Jungle Book (Century edition)/Parade-Song of the Camp Animals

PARADE-SONG OF THE CAMP ANIMALS
ELEPHANTS OF THE GUN-TEAM
We lent to Alexander the strength of Hercules,
The wisdom of our foreheads, the cunning of our knees;
We bowed our necks to service; they ne'er were loosed again,—
Make way there, way for the ten-foot teams
Of the Forty-Pounder train!
GUN-BULLOCKS
Those heroes in their harnesses avoid a cannon-ball,
And what they know of powder upsets them one and all;
Then we come into action and tug the guns again,— Make way there, way for the twenty yoke Of the Forty-Pounder train!
CAVALRY HORSES
By the brand on my withers, the finest of tunes
Is played by the Lancers, Hussars, and Dragoons, And it's sweeter than "Stables" or "Water" to me, The Cavalry Canter of "Bonnie Dundee"!
Then feed us and break us and handle and groom. And give us good riders and plenty of room,
And launch us in column of squadrons and see The way of the war-horse to "Bonnie Dundee"!
SCREW-GUN MULES
As me and my companions were scrambling up a hill, The path was lost in rolling stones, but we went forward still; For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere. And it 's our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to spare!
Good luck to every sergeant, then, that lets us pick our road; Bad luck to all the driver-men that cannot pack a load:
For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere, And it's our delight on a mountain height with a leg or two to spare!
COMMISSARIAT CAMELS
We haven't a camelty tune of our own
To help us trollop along,
But every neck is a hairy trombone
(Rtt-ta-ta-ta! is a hairy trombone !) And this is our marching song: Can't! Don't! Sha'n't! Won't! Pass it along the line!
Somebody's pack has slid from his back,
Wish it were only mine!
Somebody's load has tipped off in the road—
Cheer for a halt and a row! Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh!
Somebody's catching it now!
ALL THE BEASTS TOGETHER
Children of the Camp are we, Serving each in his degree;
Children of the yoke and goad,
Pack and harness, pad and load.
See our line across the plain.
Like a heel-rope bent again.
Reaching, writhing, rolling far.
Sweeping all away to war!
​While the men that walk beside,
Dusty, silent, heavy-eyed.
Cannot tell why we or they
March and suffer day by day. Children of the Camp are we Serving each in his degree; Children of the yoke and goad. Pack and harness, pad and load.
# The Jungle Fugitives

Includes the title novella—about an American family caught in India during the Indian Rebellion of 1857—and several short stories—fiction and non-fiction.
THE JUNGLE FUGITIVES
A TALE OF LIFE AND ADVENTURE IN INDIA
Including also
Many Stories of American Adventure, Enterprise and Daring
by EDWARD S. ELLIS, A.M.

## Contents

* The Jungle Fugitives
* Lost in the Woods
* In the Nick of Time
* Lost in the South Sea
* An Unpleasant Companion
* A Stirring Incident
* Cyclones and Tornadoes
* Lost in a Blizzard
* Throwing the Riata
* A Waterspout
* An Heroic Woman
* The Writing Found in a Bottle
* That Hornet's Nest
* A Young Hero
* Overreached
* A Battle in the Air
* Who Shall Explain It?
* A Fool or a Genius
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse