with garlands of marigold, and expects a rupee.

The coachman is to the Ghorawalla what cream is to skim milk, that is
if you consider his substance. As regards his art he is a foreign
product altogether, and I take little interest in him. There is an
indigenous art of driving in this country, the driving of the
bullock, but that is a great subject.



BOOTLAIR SAHEB--ANGLICE, THE BUTLER



Some dogs, when they hear a fiddle, are forced to turn over on their
backs and howl; some are unmoved by music. So some men are tortured
by every violation of symmetry, while some cannot discern a straight
line. I belong to the former class, and my Butler belongs to the
latter. He WOULD lay the table in a way which almost gave me a crick
in neck, and certainly dislocated my temper, and he would not see
that there was anything wrong. I reasoned with him, for he is an
intelligent man. I pointed out to him, in his own vernacular, that
the knives and forks were not parallel, that the four dishes formed a
trapezium, and that the cruet, taken with any two of the salt
cellars, made a scalene triangle; in short, that there was not one
parallelogram, or other regular figure, on the table. At last a
gleam of light passed over his countenance. Yes, he understood it
all; it was very simple; henceforth I should find everything
straight. And here is the result! He has arranged everything with
the utmost regularity, guiding himself by the creases in the