Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-11-14

a great favorite in all quarters, big man,
though under six feet, with a delightfully."-
sunny face and boyish smile. He is deaf.
unfortunately, but it does not seem to ~in-
terfere with his career. d His big house,
Elgin Hall, is presided over by Miss Fen
ton, the sister of his wife who died sew
eral years ago, and is made very lively by
three little girls, to whom he is devoted.
Then there are colonel5G galore captains
and military surgeons and chaplains, and
at one time during the summer there is
an influx of young officers who come. up
for Garrison class and invade the valleys
and swarm about the hilltops. There is
the Chumba Club, 9where the band plays
every Saturday and sometimes during the
week, and in which fairly good library
is found.
One subscribing ten rupees $3.50 for
the season can take out any number of
books, or twenty rupees, which entities
one to the use of the tennis courts and the
privileges of attending all the amusementS
of the season 1t is the great meeting
place, and one must not by any chance
miss Saturday afternoon there.
The Usual Thing.
Lunches, dinners and teas are given as
in every other place, and Dalhousie is
said to be very gay little town, as well
as to have tt unenviable reputation of
being the most Thoroughbred little den
for scandal in the whole of India, which is
saying good deal 1t has seemed to us,
the little we have seen of Anglo-1ndian
society. that people are far more interested
IN their nelghbors affairs and far more
willing to believe evil of them than in any
other part of the world; why, it is hard
to tell, for there are about no odd maids
plenty OF men for all ages of women, the
than in any other country.
Then why should there be a continuous
stream of gossip and scandal? On arriving
at a station one must Immediately make
tn 1o az n nd
then between II and 9 o'clock of every
day sally forth in ones very best until the
calls are finished.
When You Go Home.
One is. must conf, s, apt to be receiv
ed letters or no letters, with a cold stare
and many critical glances, and knows that
one is to be discussed, picked to pieces
and surmised upon all the rest of the day
and week. However, we are told that 1t
has TO be endured, and that if unwary
person who has come to the hills for rest
and quiet simply calls on no one the I'M
fortunate being will not have a shred of
reputation left Y the end of the month.
OF course, we have found many exceptions
to all this. and have received much kind
ness. though we consider that the much
Wanted hospitality of India is greatly
overrated. We were told by very sweet
and amiable young girl, who had come
out to visit a married cousin, that no out
SIDE girl mad the ghost of chance of any
good times, Tor if she were at all attractive
she was avoided by the young married
women and snubbed by the girls, and She
poor little girl ended up by a fearful decla-
ration that never in her life had she had
so dreary and unhappy time as since
she came to India.
Like Rest of the World
She herself was young, pretty and we'll
bred, of a good and well-known Scotch
family, and, besides having her married
cousin here, had brought good letters.
Everyone is too busy with his own affairs
to bother about any one else. Many have
been the invitations We have accepted here
and many those we have given, but both
invitations and acceptances have been sent
with very doubtful feeling and rather a
dread of the tongues to be encountered.
Nature makes up for much. and when we
arc winding our lovely moonlit way up our
enchantin path through the woods after
an unusually viperish dinner party we try
to calm down our perturbed minds by re-
membering that we a. = in the beautiful
Himalayas "Khabadar,' calls out the
head dandy coolie, and "khabadar" answer
the other three in a lovely minor Tone
and We swing around the last curve in our
path, night bird whistles in a rhododen-
dron tree near by and then we come out
on our little plateau and gaze down and off
thousands of feet to where the great plains
lie bathed in moonlight and the four big
rivers seem like curving silver threads and
We are content.
MARGARET STIRLING