telligent
looks and easy carriage command attention; they wear japanned shoes,
snow white trousers, long white linen coats buttoned close to the chin,
and high black hats without brim. They are Parsees, descendants of the
ancient Persians and fire-worshipers, and probably merchants and men of
wealth. And there again I see a group of Asiatic Jews in skull caps and
long gowns,--keen, thoughtful and intelligent, without the slightest
change in manners, costumes, or features since the days of the Jews of
nineteen hundred years ago.

In the crowded street I suddenly hear a shout, and see two men running
with staffs in their hands, hallooing: "Stand aside, get out of the way,
you fellows! The Prince of Travancore is coming! Clear the road, get out
of the way!" Close on the heels of the runners is a magnificent carriage
drawn by four Arabian steeds. By the side of the driver sits a
trumpeter, who occasionally blows in a long horn to make known that the
great personage is coming. Inside is the prince, and behind the carriage
are four mounted soldiers, his body guard.

Just coming in sight around a street corner, turning up one of the
native streets, is a long line of ox-carts. They are loaded with cotton,
jute, hides, indigo, or other native products. They are very light, and
are drawn by a pair of Hindoo oxen no larger than a two-year-old heifer
of our cattle, but with fine limbs and a high hump over the shoulders.
They are yoked far apart, about the same way as in Sweden; but the
coolie driver sits close behind them and guides them by a twist of the
tail with his hand. Several palanquin-bearers are passing the square.
The palanquin is a long covered box attached to a long pole and carried
by four men, two at each end of the pole, which rests on their
shoulders. Inside the palanquin is perhaps a Hindoo merchant going to a
bazaar, or a couple of students going to the university, or maybe the
wife of some well-to-do native merchant on the way to the home of her
parents.

[Illustration: INDIGO CART.]

The trees in the park are all full of flowers, like the tulip tree and
the chestnut in bloom. Innumerable birds of gay colors flutter among the
branches of the trees, and on the roofs of the highest houses we
discover a couple of the so-called adjutant birds, a species of stork,
which stand like sentinels on guard watching the thousands of ravens
that hover over the city ready to dive for any garbage that may be
thrown out into