Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-05-09

been receiving bread for months from
public baker they discovered that he was
leper, No evil results. however followed.
They say that prison bread is by far the
best that is made, although the wherefore
of the statement we could not discover.
Calcutta is certainly oriental city in
spite of the large English population. The
street sounds and sights are as interesting
as in any town in India: for instance, there
is the blind man who wanders about, chant
ing the most lovely little minor air, over
and over again, but it never becomes
monotonous, and the snake eharmer with
a pole over his shoulders and a basket of
snakes at either end who plays a bagpipe
and is supposed to go about from house to
house and rid the snake infested houses of
their pests. The sound of his music is said
to fascinate the snakes and force them out
of the thatch or wherever they may be, and
while they are drinking from a saucer of
milk placed for them the ''charmer' SEXES
them by the tail and whips them into his
basket. The coolies. of whom the streets
are full all carry a rough, very open wicker
basket In shape like huge saucer in which
they bring trunks from the station, move
furniture or carry marketing, and when
they not using it turn it upside down
and sit on it. 1t is very funny to see them
with knees doubled up perched upon their
baSketSi Then there are the little shops on
the street corners at least a cloth spread
on the ground with neat little piles of grain,
seeds and nuts sold by a dark gentleman
squattilg ON his heels; in little cornucopias
interested u.s. the father and two small boys
squatting in a row on their heels with al
most nothing on except dirty white tur-
bans chattering like magpies; the natives
coming in from the country after MONDAY
with necklaces around their necks; and
two men In loose white garments with
chuddas of pale pink cheesecloth Whch
the wind had blown up over their heads.
making two pink-veiled figures against a
background of the green turf of the Mai
dan. The two most disagreeable things
about Calcutta are the crows and the mos
quitoes.
Two Dreadful Pests.
The former are a perfect pest, chattering
from the first ray of dawn until 1t IS quite
dark an incessant and most annoying chat
ter which was to us as disagreeable as the
monotonous resonant whine of another bird
whose name with so many others must re-
main a mystery The mosquitoes are vii
lainousI They are very small and colerless,
and they are, in a way, l think. Ventriio-
quists, for no matter If they are JUST ABOUT
to give one vicious sting their SONG
sounds as if it were coming from away on
toward the ceiling. One may Dramatically
seal up ones room toward evening, put as
soon as the lights come steady mum
comes down from the ceiling as OF an army
of mosquitoes In battle array. IL Is linpoS-
Sibe to live without netting over the peas
and even then it is difficult to escape them;
And one must remember that it is for all
the year round, 100.
A Pretty Good Story.
The old Warren Hastings house at Ailpur,
a suburb of Calcutta, is one of the places 10
which one is first taken as sight, and
was principally interesting to as on &C
count of its ghost. 1t is supposed to con-
tain one of the few not-to-be-explained-
away ghosts of the world, and we are told
by a lady who lived in the house Tor a Ie"
months before it was bought by the gov
eminent as a guest house for the VISITING
native rulers a tale which she was willing
to youch for. 1t seems that a middle-aged
Scotchman. an old friend was coming 10
make this lady and her husband visit. lie
had lust landed that day, and consequently
could have heard nothing about the ghost'
indeed did not even know that he was TO
visit in the famous Hastings mansion. AS
he drove up to the door in a hired ghari
loaded with luggage he saw another car
riage drive in just head or MIN, large
glass state coach. with huge old-fashioned
silver lamps and he was immensely inter
ested concluding that some rajah must be
coming to call on his friend. The coach
man whipped up his horses as they came up
the stately entrance, and was apparently
bent upon running down the gorgeous
eauipage so he called loudly, Stop, stop,
there fool idiot what are you doing!' He
probably used much stronger language also,
but as it was in English the native driver
went on in innocence of the boiling rage
within his ghari and drove straight into and
through the ghostly carriage. That coming
only second handed from the hostess her
self and the one who saw the ghost being
a rather solid, hard-headed Scotchman, 1t
seemed to US quite a satisfactory ghost
story. MARGAREI SIERLINd'