vie with each other in producing the
most ear-rending discord. Elegantly covered carriages swarm in four
lines up and down the road. Most of the occupants are Englishmen with
their ladies; but you may also see quite a number of Hindoo princes or
noblemen with their ladies in oriental costumes, or Parsee merchants in
black silk coats and high caps. To the right there is a veritable forest
of ship's masts extending along the beach for miles, and to the left
some native soldiers are being drilled. We drive down and have a chat
with the English officers and stop to see a game of polo played, the
native cavalry contesting with their English officers, all displaying a
wonderful skill. Every now and then a couple of young Englishmen or
officers on horseback meet each other, and yonder are two half-naked
Hindoos on a jog-trot carrying a load which looks like a big coffin, but
which turns out to be a palanquin occupied by a passenger who, in an
inclined position, smokes his cigar and takes as much comfort as he can
get in that primitive mode of traveling. But see there! At a given sign
hundreds of men arrange themselves in long rows with their faces turned
to the west, just as the sun sinks below the horizon; they prostrate
themselves with their faces turned toward Mecca, and say their evening
prayers. They are Mohammedans.

Returning we stop at the gate to the Eden garden where a large number of
equipages have already arrived before us, compelling us to wait for our
turn to drive up and get out of the carriage. The garden is now
illuminated by thousands of gas and electric lights; men, women and
children walk forth and back on the soft grass plats; the military band
plays well-known tunes; Chinese, Parsees, Jews, Hindoos and Arabs, in
the most varied costumes, mingle with each other and with the Europeans.
There are plenty of seats for such as wish to sit down and rest; but it
is now time for exercise, and they walk in rows of ten or more until the
band winds up its program for the evening by playing "God save the
Queen." In the midst of a general hurry and confusion we hunt up our
carriage which was to stop at a certain spot, and return to the
crossroad from which the roads of Maidan as well as the streets in the
city may be seen glimmering in the gaslight as far as the eye can reach.
When we reach home it is just time to dress for dinner, which generally
begins at eight o'clock, lasting two or three hours. As to fashionable
l