for Delhi."

"But I should think, Willis, that there is nothing in the
street-scenery of Delhi to compare with the Boulevards of Paris,
Regent-street in London, or the Broadway of New York."

"Beg your pardon there, Master Jack; I know every shop window in
Regent-street; I have often been nearly run over in the Broadway, and
can easily imagine the turn out on the Boulevards; but they are
solitudes in comparison with an Indian street."

"How so, Willis?"

"Well, it is not that there are more inhabitants, nor on account of
the traffic, for no streets in the world will beat those of London in
that respect--it is because the people live, move, and have their
being in the streets; they eat, drink, and sleep in the streets; they
sing, dance, and pray in the streets; conventions, treaties, and
alliances are concluded in the streets; in short, the street is the
Indians' home, his club, and his temple. In Europe, transactions are
negotiated quietly; in India, nothing can be done without roaring,
screaming, and bawling."

"There must be plenty of deaf people there," observed Jack.

"Possibly; but there are no dumb people. Added to the endless
vociferations of the human voice, there is an eternal barking of dogs,
elephants snorting, cows lowing, and myriads of pigs grunting. Then
there is the thump, thump of the tam-tam, the whistling of fifes, and
the screeching of a horrible instrument resembling a fiddle, which can
only be compared with the Belzebub music of Hawai. If, amongst these
discordant sounds, you throw in a cloud of mosquitoes and a hurricane
of dust, you will have a tolerable idea of an Indian street."

"There may be animation and life enough, Willis, but I should prefer
the monotony of Regent-street for all that. Would you like to air
yourself in Paris a bit?"

"Yes, but not just now; the less my countrymen see of France, under
present circumstances, the better."

"What is England and France always fighting about, Willis?"

"Well, I believe the cause this time to be a shindy the _mounseers_
got up amongst themselves in 1788. They first cut off the head of
their king, and then commenced to cut one another's throats, and
England interfered."

"That," observed Fritz, "may be the immediate origin of the present
war [1812]. But for the cause of the animosity existing between the
two nations, you must, I suspect, go back as far as the eleventh
century, to the time of William, Duke of Normandy."

"What had h