Judging from the attentions lavished
upon my pedal extremities, one might well imagine me to be a race-horse
that had just endeared himself to his groom and owner by winning the
Derby.

An ample supper is followed by a most refreshing sleep, and in the
morning, when ready to depart, my watchful attendants present themselves
with broad smiles and sheets of paper. Each one wants a certificate
showing that he has contributed to my comfort and entertainment, and
lastly comes the nawab himself and his bosom friend, the hospital doctor,
to bid me farewell and request the same favor. This certificate-foible is
one of the greatest bores in India; almost every native who performs any
service for a Sahib, whether in the capacity of a mere waiter at a native
hotel, or as retainer of some wealthy nabob--and not infrequently
the nabob himself, if a government official--wants a testimonial
expressing one's approval of his services. An old servitor who has
mingled much among Europeans must have whole reams of these useless
articles stowed away. What in the world they want with them is something
of a puzzler; though the idea is, probably, that they might come in
useful to obtain a situation some time or other.

South of Paniput the trees alongside the road are literally swarming with
monkeys; they file in long strings across the road, looking anxiously
behind, evidently frightened at the strange appearance of the bicycle.
Shinnying up the toddy-palms, they ensconce themselves among the foliage
and peer curiously down at me as I wheel past, giving vent to their
perturbation in excited cries. Twenty-five miles down the road, an hour
is spent beneath a grove of shady peepuls, watching the amusing antics of
a troop of monkeys in the branches. Their marvellous activity among the
trees is here displayed to perfection, as they quarrel and chase one
another from tree to tree. The old ones seem passively irritable and
decidedly averse to being bothered by the antics and mischievous activity
of the youngsters. Taking possession of some particular branch, they warn
away all would-be intruders with threatening grimaces and feints. The
youthful members of the party are skillful of pranks and didoes, carried
on to the great annoyance of their more aged and sedate relatives, who,
in revenge, put in no small portion of their time punishing or pursuing
them with angry cries for their deeds of wanton annoyance. One monkey,
that has very evidently been