Page:Letters from India Vol 1.djvu/118

 fighting; then, on the road, we saw a very pretty English britscha, which at first feared was as good as ours; it was drawn by beautiful horses in silver harness, and a footman running before it, and sitting cross-legged on the front seat was a rajah, dressed precisely as he was the first moment he came into the world—he had not even a turban on, but his long black hair was hanging on his shoulders. He was smoking his hookah, and seemed to be enjoying his airing very much. I rather envied him, he could not have felt half so feverish as I did with my clothes on.

The life of ladies in India is a wearisome one for them—so many hours in which the house must be shut up, nothing to do, and no strength to do it with; and then most of the mothers are either parted from their children, or feeling they are doing wrong by keeping them here. The children show the climate much more than the grown-up people, for at a year old, they have not a tinge of colour in their lips and cheeks, and it grows worse as they grow older.

Saturday, March 19. Much better, and the air is really fresh. We have no trouble with our visitors here. They