his wrist, the whole proceeding as orderly and matter-of-fact as if it were the usual thing to drop and recover articles in Madras harbor.
The completed railway now gives one choice of a land route to Calcutta in half the time a ship requires; but with the dust, heat, and discomfort considered, it is not always preferred.
"The Khedive, she" made the seven hundred and eighty miles from Madras to Calcutta in four days and a half, counting in the whole night that we anchored among a brilliant constellation of ships' lights at the Hugli mouth of the Ganges. When the ship started up the sacred, muddy stream of such ill omen, with a famous Hugli pilot in an enormous mushroom solar hat shading him like an umbrella, ports were closed, ropes laid out, and every officer, lascar, and stoker was at his post. The ship sailed smoothly over the shoals and quicksands of such dire record and nothing happened.
We hastened to the Great Eastern Hotel, to which we had written in November, again in December, and twice telegraphed of our coming from Madras.
"We never reserve rooms unless money is inclosed with the order," said the haughty brown clerk. "This hotel is full."
"Have you any mail for us?"
"Oh, yes. Many letters. They have Been coming for some time. The bank messenger brought many to-day. You will find them in that desk over there," pointing to a box where every one rummaged and chose at will.
We drove in the fast-falling dusk to five hotels
