ously gilded and tipped with tiny bells. These are the vehicles of
petted young nabobs in charge of attendants: tiny oxen with gorgeous
trappings, tiny chariots richly gilded and carved and painted, tiny
occupants richly dressed and jewelled. Troupes of Nautchnees add their
picturesque appearance to the brilliant throngs, and here and there is
encountered a holy fakir, unkempt and unwashed, having, perchance,
registered a vow years ago never more to apply water to his skin, his
only clothing a dirty waist-cloth and the yellow clay plastered on his
body. Long strings of less pretentious bullock-gharries almost block the
roadway, and people constantly dodging out from behind them in front of
my wheel make it extremely difficult to ride.

Several days are passed at Delhi, waiting the arrival of a small
bicycle-camera from Calcutta, which has been forwarded from America. Most
of this time is spent in the pleasant occupation of reclining in an
arm-chair beneath the punkah, the only comfortable situation in Delhi at
this season of the year. Nevertheless, I manage to spin around the city
mornings and evenings, and visit the famous fort and palace of Shah
Jehan.

In the magnificent--magnificent even in the decline of its grandeur
--fort-palace of the Mogul Emperor named, British soldiers now find
comfortable quarters. This fort, together with modern Delhi (the real
Indian name of Delhi is Shahjehanabad, after the emperor Shah Jehan, who
had it built), is but about two hundred and fifty years old, the entire
affair having been built to gratify the Mogul ambition for founding new
capitals.

Although so modern compared with other cities near by, both city and
palace have gone through strangely stirring and tragic experiences, and
events have happened in the latter that, although sometimes trivial in
themselves, have led to momentous results.

In this palace, in 1716, was given permission, by the Emperor Furrokh
Seeur, to the Scotch physician, Gabriel Hamilton, the privileges that
have gradually led up to the British conquest of the whole peninsula. As
a reward for professional services rendered, permission to establish
factories on the Hooghly was given; the Presidency of Fort William sprung
therefrom, and at length the British Indian Empire. Twenty years after
this, the terrible Nadir Shah, from Persia, occupied the palace, and held
high jinks within while his army slaughtered over a hundred thousand of
the inhabitants in the