Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-06-20

story?" Abdul looked at me with large and
honest eyes and exclaimed Il say on my
God. Mem Sahb, dhat eet ees true, yes,
SIR" and then added. And Samdu. mad
anne, look at his clothes," whereupon Sam
du, the hero. who had until then been
swathed from head to foot in gray blank
ct, spread wide his folded arms and exhib-
it gaps in his costume and brown naked
ness. AS such might be seen at almost
any moment in any of their costumes we
were not deeply impressed, but ii was a
startling enough revelation to cause the
conversation to come to an end, and we ban
ished them all at once and for a time sat
in thought then both agreed that 1t was
fiction from beginning to end. My view OF
i. is that they, after having received a Sc
we're scolding from us for their delinquen-
cies. put their heads together and made the
whole thing up, except as to having bought
the goose, which they kept, and off which
they gaily dined that night My hope is
that it was very tough and caused more
or less discomfort later on!
| met at Darjeeling young judge of
district in Bengal and he told that 1t
was never possible to make native tell
the truth unless he was made to swear by
the body of his eldest son, in which case
he could usually be believed; that he him.
self had been, once upon time, called in
consultation about case of assault and
on the way to the seat of judgment came
upon scene of thrilling excitement,
wherein two men were struggling together.
one of them having a huge knife in his
hand. He stopped his dog-cart and inquired
what it meant, and was informed that these
were the compliments in the case of as
sault. and that they were rehearsing scene
to be enacted before the Judges that day,
all made up between those two wretches!
A Storm on the Lake.
We sailed all day through the blue waters
of beautiful Wular lake. which is encircled
with mountains covered with snow, and
which, though it lies like a pale sapphire
to be the most m-tossed of lakes, and
dangerous to cross except in the early
morning. We did part of it in the after
noon but skrted the shores. where it be-
comes more or less of a marsh. and escaped
the storm there, but got 1T severely after
were tied up close to shore in Thelum.
1t was a bad wind storm and our rush mats
had to be fastened in by long poles and our
mooring stakes looked to with great care,
but in the middle of the night the moon
came out again, the wind dropped sudden
ly. and the next day sailed along as
serenely as If we had never heard of wind.
The immensely picturesque town of Srinug-
CUR is built on two branches of the River
Thelum and we entered by the smaller
branch through the lower bazaar The
houses are all falling to pieces and their
invariable overhanging second story
propped up with long poles. Very few have
much of roof but almost all have beau
tifully carved oriel windows and doors, and
almost every one has fire wood sticking out
of the upper windows. which we decided
was for the sake of drying the wood in the
sun. In each carved window sat a pretty
girl or a picturesque man, grandfather
with a baby in his arms one or two
dirty but handsome children; and each win
dow formed n picture of it's own.
A Hideous Palace.
AS we passed the hideous palace of the ma
harajah, painted in ugly reds. yellows and
blues Ahhadu. who was polling vigorously
on one side of the boat, with Samdu and his
pole on the other, looked at it with pride
and said House of maharajah, Mem Sa
hb. and house backwards of his ladies'"
This last he added in lower voice. The
house backwards (back of the palace,
the zenana was of small red brick and
white plaster. and unSpeakably hideous,
but that and the maharajah's steam launch,
which seemed dreadfully out of place in
that swift little river full of dungas, house
boats and the gaily painted boats of the
rajah, were the only objects which held
interest for Ahhadu, apparently. We went
slowly along past most lovely tumble
down old palace with three enchanting
carved oriel windows hanging from the up
permost story under the third. second and
at last the first bridge Cor Mirakada Hab-
bakadar and Paddakadar), most primitfveiy
built bridges imaginable, and moored our
dunga at the post office stairs, and sailed
forth in search of letters from home.
MARGARET STERLING.