ng crowded off and falling over the rocky precipice, a
distance of five hundred feet. There is no protection to the narrow,
winding path by which the apex is reached, and some nerve is required to
accomplish the ascent.

The view from this eminence is exceptionally fine. The native town far
below us looked as though it had been shaken up and dropped there in
confusion by some convulsion of nature. There is no regularity in the
laying out of the place; it is a confused mass of buildings, narrow
paths, crooked roads, and low-built mud cabins. We visited what is
called the silversmith's quarter, but it was utterly unlike what such a
locality would be elsewhere, composed of one-story mud cabins, in narrow
filthy lanes full of chickens, mangy dogs, cats, and quarrelsome
children. No one but a native would suspect these hovels to contain
choice and finely wrought silver ornaments, and that the entire
manufacture was performed upon the spot. These workmen, nevertheless,
have a reputation for the excellence and originality of their product,
which extends beyond the borders of India. Boxes were produced from odd
corners, which were full of exquisite silver work, forming such articles
as bracelets, necklaces, rings, pins, belts, etc., from which our party
made selections. Trichinopoly is also famous for the manufacture of
cigars, called cheroots, exported to all parts of India and the East,
and which keep employed the busy fingers of a large number of the men
and women of the town. In passing the open doors of the dwellings,
cabins, or huts, young girls and boys were seen rolling up the cheroots,
sitting cross-legged beside low benches. The manufacture of cutlery is
also a specialty here, and the place has some sixty thousand population.
It will be remembered that the remains of Bishop Heber were buried at
Trichinopoly, where he was drowned while bathing, in the year 1826. Here
also occurred some fierce struggles between the French and English for
the sovereignty of southern India.

Two hundred miles of night travel by rail brought us to Tanjore, a large
fortified city, where we were again quartered in a government bungalow,
there being no hotel designed to accommodate travelers. The palace of
the late Rajah, an ancient building with lofty towers, and still
occupied by the ex-queen, was quite interesting. We were permitted to
examine its internal economy, and found by the library that her husband
was a man of cultivation and tas