ide this gate is a high
orchestra stand, and below a square promenade on the fine grass plat.
From six to seven o'clock in the evening a military band plays to the
fashionable world which gathers here to take an evening walk.

[Illustration: GOVERNMENT HOUSE.]

A quarter of a mile below the Eden garden is the historical Fort
William, around which Lord Clive and other heroes struggled to found the
British Empire of India. Below the fort and next to the Strand is the
drill-ground, and below this again a large race course. South of Maidan
are several suburbs, and beyond these a zoological garden.

Driving past the imposing orange-colored palace of the viceroy, called
the government house, which very much resembles our capitol at
Washington, but is neither so large nor so elegant, we finally strike
the Esplanade, where the Chowringhee road meets the Red road. We stop a
few minutes at the Esplanade to take a look at the gay picture. The
Esplanade is crowded with a surging mass of humanity, all going from the
river bank to their homes in the Eastern part of the city. It is the
sixth day of the new moon, and thousands of men, women and children have
been down to the river, washed themselves in its waters, and offered
sacrifices consisting of fruits and flowers. The women are dressed in
white, red, yellow, green, blue or violet garments. The smallest
children sit astride on the left hip of their mothers, the men carry
large baskets of fruit, mostly bananas, on their heads for the river-god
received only a small portion, and the rest is to be eaten at home. Here
and there among the pedestrians is a well-to-do Hindoo who takes his
family, consisting of two or three wives and a crowd of children, to the
river in an ox-cart. There are hundreds of musicians and peddlers in the
throng, and all are joyful and rejoicing. It must be observed that only
people of the lower classes take part in such public demonstrations in
company with women and children. Fashionable women would never walk
beyond the gardens around their own houses and do not appear in company.

Soon carriages are seen passing by in long rows, either down the Red
road or to the right along the Esplanade toward the Strand. We follow
the latter and arrive at the river bank where thousands of people are
yet busy with their sacrifices or trading with peddlers for fancy goods
and dainties, while others listen to the music from peculiarly
constructed flutes and drums, which