f his length from the ground.

From the city of Hooghli southward, the road might with equal propriety
be termed a street; it follows down the west side of the Hooghli River
and links together a chain of populous towns and villages, the straggling
streets of which sometimes fairly come together. Fruit-gardens, crowded
with big golden pomolos, delicious custard, apples, and bananas abound;
in the Hooghli villages the latter can be bought for two pice a dozen.
Depots for the accumulation and shipment of cocoa-nuts, where tons and
tons of freshly gathered nuts are stacked up like measured mounds of
earth, are frequent along the river. Jute factories with thousands of
whirring spindles and the clackety-clack of bobbins fill the morning air
with the buzz and clatter of vigorous industrial life. Juggernaut cars,
huge and gorgeous, occupy central places in many of the towns passed
through. The stalls and bazaars display a variety of European beverages
very gratifying from the stand-point of a hot and thirsty wayfarer,
ranging from Dublin ginger ale to Pommery Sec. California Bartlett pears,
with seductive and appetizing labels on their tin coverings, are seen in
plenty, and shiny wrappers envelop oblong cakes of Limburger cheese.

For a few minutes my wheel turns through a district where the names of
the streets are French, and where an atmosphere of sleepy Catholic
respectability pervades the streets. This is Chandernagor, a wee bit of
territory that the French have been permitted to retain here, a rosebud
in the button-hole of la belle France's national vanity. Chanderuagor is
a bite of two thousand acres out of the rich cake of the lower Hooghli
Valley; but it is invested with all the dignity of a governor-general's
court, and is gallantly defended by a standing army of ten men. The
Governor-General of Chandernagor fully makes up in dignity what the place
lacks in size and importance; when the East India Railway was being built
he refused permission for it to pass through his territory. There is no
doubt but that the land forces of Chandernagor would resist like bantams
any wanton or arbitrary violation of its territorial prerogatives by any
mercenary railroad company, or even by perfide Albion herself, if need
be. The standing army of Chandernagor hovers over peaceful India, a
perpetual menace to the free and liberal government established by
England. Some day the military spirit of Chandernagor will break loose,
and those