apparent reason. He sheds no light on this circumstance when you
question him, but closer scrutiny of his certificates will reveal the
fact that the convivial season of Christmas has a certain fatality
for him.

When he retires, you may have a call from a fine looking old follower
of the Prophet. He is dressed in spotless white, with a white turban
and white cumberbund; his beard would be as white as either if he had
not dyed it rich orange. He also has lost his place very suddenly
more than once, and on the last occasion without a certificate. When
you ask him the cause of this, he explains, with a certain brief
dignity, in good Hindoostanee, that there was some tukrar
(disagreement) between him and one of the other servants, in which
his master took the part of the other, and as his abroo (honour) was
concerned, he resigned. He does not tell you that the tukrar in
question culminated in his pursuing the cook round the compound with
a carving-knife in his hand, after which he burst into the presence
of the lady of the house, gesticulating with the same weapon, and
informed her, in a heated manner, that he was quite prepared to cut
the throats of all the servants, if honour required it.

If none of the preceding please you, you shall have several varieties
of the Soortee tribe anxious to take service with you; nice looking,
clean men, with fair complexions. There will be the inevitable
unfortunate whose house was burned to ashes two months ago, on which
occasion he lost everything he had, including, of course, all his
valuable certificates. Another will send in a budget dating from the
troubled times of the mutiny. From them it will appear that he has
served in almost every capacity and can turn his hand to anything, is
especially good with children, cooks well, and knows English