dah Ally Kahn.
During the mutiny it contained only 927 Europeans, who were besieged by
the rebels. Shot and shell marks are to be seen in the walls. The Fort
Mueks' Bhawan, built during the famine as relief work at great cost, is
of much interest; also a museum filled with objects of curiosity.
Lucknow, famous in song, ran through my mind as we looked in vain for a
Lalla Rookh, the imaginary character of the poet Moore.

Cawnpoor, thirty miles further on, with 130,000 inhabitants, presents
large industries of leather work, rice mills and jute manufactories. The
drive to the beautiful park, which now crosses the battlefield, is most
interesting. The stately monument of pure white marble, surmounted by a
female figure, with widespread wings, and in each hand a palm of most
exquisite workmanship, combined with gracefulness. An English officer
stands near by ready to give you a brief but graphic account of the
mutiny. The monument stands on the spot over the great well, into which
were thrown alive 700 men, women and children, who were hurled into it
in one day by the order of Nana Sahib. A beautiful memorial church not
far away has been erected in memory of the loved and lost. We enter
during vesper hours; such perfect peace and quiet reigns in and around
this sacred spot, where many English men and women were gathered at the
service. It seemed so isolated to me so far from home. The drives in the
vicinity are fascinating, yet the rice fields were beginning to grow
scarce and less grass was seen. We journey on. Wheat fields appear more
frequently; apparently no demarcation between land of different owners.
Trees are scarce, but the excrement of cattle is sun baked and used for
fuel. The homes of the people are mud-walled pens, huddled together,
surrounded by walls of the same material. This grouping of homes, such
as they were, attracted our attention all along our journey. This is
evidently for protection. No isolated farm houses, with the comforts of
life, were in evidence.

The pay of the laborers who construct the railroad is three annas a day
(2-1/4 cents); an English-speaking servant will get 34 cents a day (one
rupee and four annas) for food. We do not realize how thickly settled
the country is in traveling on the railroad, but by and by we see the
mud-walled village again with its hundreds of inhabitants, who rush out
on the approach of the train, the women and children crying piteously
for backsheesh. The wealth