off. We were received at the entrance to the
garden by our host and his son, who led us to a marble platform by the
side of a tank on which three boats were floating. One of these had
the name of 'Sunbeam' painted upon it; but the compliment must have
been paid some time ago, for both boat and paint looked decidedly
shabby. On a marble platform in the centre of the tank a band was
playing. My little girls embarked for a row in the boat, discarding
the services of the four boatmen who, apparently disliking, like
Othello, to find 'their occupation gone,' jumped into the water and
swam after them. Their black heads and copper-coloured shoulders
looked so funny following the erratic movements of the boat!

[Illustration: The Hamyan Jump, Delhi]

We were offered ices, tea, coffee, and other good things, whilst the
band played its liveliest airs. Presently old-fashioned bath-chairs
arrived to take us up by an avenue of palms to the house, where the
Nawab showed us photographs and portraits of various distinguished
people, and--with natural pride--the preparations he is making for a
Jubilee dinner on the 16th, when he will entertain 300 guests in a
spacious marquee. The whole place is now encumbered with
bullock-carts, bringing up stores, provisions, and wines for this
great occasion.

The Nawab earnestly pressed us to fix a day on which he might be
allowed to entertain us; but want of time made this hospitable plan
impossible. On parting he presented us each with a bouquet, as well as
with the usual bottles of scent, the number of which varies, I
observe, according to the position of the recipient. On these
occasions I find my number is generally eight, but occasionally only
six; while some of the party get four, and others the still more
modest allotment of two bottles apiece. The drive home, through the
cool air beneath the bright stars, amid the twinkling lights, and the
cries and 'chatterification' of birds going to bed, as well as the
flutter of flying-foxes skimming overhead as they hurried forth on
their nocturnal predatory expeditions, was really the pleasantest part
of the day.

In the evening there was a dinner party at the Residency, which
included Sir Salar Jung, his brother Mooner-ul-Mulk, and several
European guests. Sir Salar is of gigantic physical proportions, and
well merits his sobriquet of 'mountain-man.' He has been a great deal
in England, and is well acquainted with European manners and customs.
C