e himself was
resplendent, with uncut emerald earrings, and the general appearance of a
certain Savoy favourite as the "Rajah of Bong"!

Our spirits sank as he spread himself and his goods out upon the
drawing-room floor, which speedily became a glittering chaos of gold and
jewelled cups, umbrella handles, boxes, scent-bottles, and necklaces. Jane
divided her admiration between a rope of fat pearls and a necklace of
uncut emeralds, either of which might have been hers at the trifling price
of some 7000 rupees, but we finally restricted our acquisitions to very
modest proportions, and the stout jeweller departed, apparently no whit
less cheerful than when he came.

The modern brass-work of Jaipur is somewhat attractive, and we bought
various articles--a tall lamp-stand, an elephant bell, and a few ordinary
bowls of excellent shape.

I have remarked before on the extreme tameness of, and the confidence
shown by, wild creatures out here. A titmouse came and perched on the arm
of my chair while sitting reading on the verandah at Gulmarg.

The rats and mice, who own the forest houses in the Machipura, have to be
kicked off the beds at night. But the little grey squirrels in Sir Swinton
Jacob's garden are--_facile princeps_--the boldest wild-fowl we have yet
encountered.

Every afternoon about three, when tea was toward, the squirrels gathered
on the gravel path, and prepared to receive bread and butter.

After a few nervous darts and tail whiskings, a bold squirrel would skip
up close, and, after eating a little ground bait, would boldly come up and
nibble out of a motionless hand. In two minutes half-a-dozen pretty little
creatures would be fidgeting round, eating bread and butter daintily,
neatly holding the morsel in their little forepaws and nuzzling into one's
fingers for more.

A handsome magpie, and, of course, a contingent of crows, made up the
fascinating party; while in the background, among the neem trees and the
flaming "gold mohurs," the minahs and green parrots sustained an incessant
and riotous conversation.

_Wednesday, October 25_.--Gladly would we have accepted the Jacobs'
invitation to stay longer at Jaipur. We would have liked nothing better,
but time was flying, and the 5th November--our day of departure from
Bombay--was drawing rapidly near. So yesterday evening we took the 6.30
train for Ajmere, and, reaching there at 10.30, changed into the
narrow-gauge railway for Chitor. We are becoming wel