pur, Baroda, Indore, Alwar, Gwalior, and Kashmir are the native states the tourist finds most worth seeing. "I am only visiting native states on this trip," said one superior traveler. "I do not care for the beaten track." When we met him on the grand thoroughfare weeks later and asked as to his enjoyment of innermost India, he denounced native rulers in sweeping terms. "I arrived in the day the raja died in Calcutta, so there was nothing doing there, unless I waited a week to see a funeral. I presented my letter to the diwan at and he said: 'I am very sorry, but His Highness has been so intoxicated for the past fortnight that he has not seen any one. He is drinking a bottle of brandy and one of chartreuse a day, in addition to much champagne and Scotch and soda. I really cannot say when His Highness will be fit to receive visitors again.' At it rained cats and dogs, the bangla leaked, the bedding was wet, and the food bad, and I came away without presenting my letter. All India is off the beaten track."
We stopped at Alwar, in Rajputana, on our way back to Agra to keep our engagement with the February moon in the garden of the Taj. We reached Alwar station, as we had reached so many other places, between one and two o'clock in the morning. There was no carriage, no khansamah, nor any one from the maharaja's bangla to meet us—only sodden darkness and the platform of the small railway station. A tiny ekka was found, and in some way we, with the luggage and bearer, managed to get in the absurd little cab, and a mite of a pony managed
