do, to the end
of their days, continue to drag forward and exhume their labours and the
honours that did _not_ come to them--was the work of the two men who,
together for years past, have been pushing Jeypore along the
stone-dressed paths of civilisation, peace, and comfort. "Servants of
the Raj" they called themselves, and surely they have served the Raj
past all praise. The people in the city and the camel-driver from the
sand-hills told of their work. They themselves held their peace as to
what they had done, and, when pressed, referred--crowning baseness--to
reports. Printed ones!

VI

SHOWING HOW HER MAJESTY'S MAILS WENT TO UDAIPUR AND FELL OUT BY THE WAY.

Arrived at Ajmir, the Englishman fell among tents pitched under the
shadow of a huge banian tree, and in them was a Punjabi. Now there is no
brotherhood like the brotherhood of the Pauper Province; for it is even
greater than the genial and unquestioning hospitality which, in spite of
the loafer and the Globe-trotter, seems to exist throughout India. Ajmir
being British territory, though the inhabitants are allowed to carry
arms, is the headquarters of many of the banking firms who lend to the
Native States. The complaint of the Setts[6] to-day is that their trade
is bad, because an unsympathetic Government induces Native States to
make railways and become prosperous. "Look at Jodhpur!" said a gentleman
whose possessions might be roughly estimated at anything between thirty
and forty-five lakhs. "Time was when Jodhpur was always in debt--and not
so long ago, either. Now, they've got a railroad and are carrying salt
over it, and, as sure as I stand here, they have a _surplus_! What can
we do?" Poor pauper! However, he makes a little profit on the
fluctuations in the coinage of the States round him, for every small
king seems to have the privilege of striking his own image and
inflicting the Great Exchange Question on his subjects. It is a poor
State that has not two seers and five different rupees.

[6] native bankers.

From a criminal point of view, Ajmir is not a pleasant place. The Native
States lie all round and about it, and portions of the district are ten
miles off, Native State-locked on every side. Thus the criminal, who may
be a burglarious Meena lusting for the money bags of the Setts, or a
Peshawari down south on a cold weather tour, has his plan of campaign
much simplified.

The Englishman made only a short stay in the town, hearing th