And here when a vessel arrives we devour
The news of six months in the space of an hour.
The customs of living are strange in th' extreme
And to you my dear Parent will very odd seem.
Here they rise very late, and beginning to dress,
Are surrounded by slaves for they can't do with less.
Here the natives of India to caste do so cling,
You scarcely get two to perform the same thing.
One puts on a stocking, one holds a serie
Another with chillumchees stands ready by,
A third has a mirror, he brings to your view,
A fourth fellow's tying the string of your shoe!
Or perhaps if undressing, a bearer's undoing
Your shoes or cravat, there's another shampooing
Your arms or your legs whiche'er he may light on
As famed Dean Mahomed shampoos you at Brighton I
Equipp'd to the table they hie to partake
Of breakfast, by far the best meal that they make.
Then each his own business prepares to pursue
But ere they proceed, smoke a chillum or two.
But now my dear father, 'tis full time to close
This very long letter, or you may suppose
That having commenc'd, I may never intend
To bring my remarks on our town to an end.
Adieu! then dear parent and long live to know
That I'm always your dutiful son Shigram-Po!