Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1889-09-20

l
attic in 1874, while Viceroy of India), ex-
tended spacious and well-kept garden,
on broad patch of smooth, green turf,
in the centre of which two native
''elevens" we're playing Hindoo cricket
match. The extraordinary antics of the
players-who had evidently rust begun to
learn the game-and the wondering
comments of the puzzled spectators (who
were divided in opinion between suppos-
ing all the performers to be stark mad
| and regarding the whole affair as some
| peculiar religious ceremony set us both
laughing till we could hardly stand; but
just then there came an interruption
which made us grave enough.
| A thin, care-worn man, in the dress of
an ordinary Hindoo peasant, followed by
! five or six others who seemed to be his
friends, approached us with a low
salaam, and holding up the wasted, sick
! Unlocking child that he carried in his
arms, entreated me to heal it with
| touch-a feat which he evidently
thought quite within the power Of one Of
the wonder working ''Inggrez Sahib-log"
English masters).
The poor fellows imploring look, and
the silent, wistful appeal IL the hollow
eyes of the poor little sufferer itself made
me long for the power of working mira
Giles as | had never longed for in my
childish reading of the healing exploits
of mediavel saints Or magicians. With
some difficulty [ contrived to explain to
the afflicted father that [ was no "Hakim"
doctor, and advised him to carry his
sick child into the hospital, in front of
which we were standing, giving him at
the same time silver rupee fifty cents.
Th- Hindoo acknowledged my present
with another profound salaam as he
turned away; but could see that his dis
appointment at my refusal more than bal
anced his pleasure in my gift.
A few minutes later we came up to the
main entrance of the palace itself-one of
the architectural wonders of Rajpootana.
Nor was the famous building unworthy
Of its renown, although here, not less
than in the city below, the pink battle
ments, white cOrnices, and Enthusiastically
carved t,1rrets disturbed us with haunt
ing vision of French candies Even with
out its wonderful accumulation of striking
details, the mere height and size of the
great structure would have sufficed to
make it remarkable. Beneath the colder
skies of Europe this truly Eastern lavish
ness of barb .ric decoration would seem
eXtravagant and absurd; but when seen
amid this burning tropical sunshine and
this riOtOus luXuriance of tropical vegeta-
ton it was emphatically 1.-the right thing
in the right place.
Even here, however, the sturdy spirit
of Western civilization had forced its
way, and the matter-Of-fact traces of it
which cropped up here and there amid
all this romantic splendor had q very
grotesque effect. Through a deep,
shadowy, fretted archway, worthy of the
Alhambra in the days of its pride, we
caught sight of a printing press worked
by HindOO printers, running off sheet
after sheet of primers and books of refer
ence or the native college and school of
art established in the city by the Mahara-
jah himself. The vast, manipulated
"Durbar" audience halD had as its centre
piece, a huge, clumsy wooden packing
case marked with the label of a we'll
known Anglo-Indian railway company.
seemed to have come bodily out of the
'Arabian Nights figured lithograph
portrait Of the Empress of Austria! An
English billiard-table stood conspicuous
in the midst of a curtained hall that
flashed back the sunlight from walls
wholly formed of tiny countless mirrors;
and from the centre of paved court,
with carved Eastern gateways and walls
frescoed with green peacocks (the Ma
hara jahs family crest), rose a monster
gas lamp, which our Hindoo guide
pointed out to as proudly as if gas had
lust been invented and he himself was
the inventor.
But as we went deeper and deeper into
this wonderful place, all these modern in
congruities melted away, and the whole
scene became thoroughly Oriental once
more. The panorama of the palace
garden itself, with its shady walks en-
powered in rich tropical foliage, its mar
bic fountains glistening in the sun, its
dainty little pavilions, and its gorgeous
flowers dropping languidly on the warm,
dreamy air-all framed in the bold, rocky
outline of the distant Aravuli Hills,
which shut in the charming little Jey
poor Valley-carried us back at once to
the far off days of Haroun Al-Raschid
and Mahmoud of Ghazni. And when we
stood in the middle Of the inner court
yard and looked upward, we saw above
us a seemingly endless mass of carved bat
Elements, marble columns, clustering tur-
rets, curtained balconies, fower-crowned
terraces, sculptured cornices, and bright
,1-nlIS ,ailnl M the clear