are—well—that you are comparatively inexperienced. Good Indian 'form' is a kind of knowing solemnity indicative of pent-up 'earnestness.'
"Any donkey can assume it; and it's worth your while to try. Don't make fun of anybody or anything,—except on paper; send us two columns every three days; get everybody's names and titles right for the opening ceremony description; ask Sir Rupert's Private Secretary for a copy of his opening speech, it will be ready printed; mind you call on everybody, and be especially civil to Twitchley Crowdie, the Commissioner—indeed, to all the Twitchley Crowdies you ever meet, for they are one of those families that are as the lilies of the Indian field, for they toil not, neither do they spin. And, if your great namesake, Mr. Mudsworth, Consulting Engineer to the Secretary of State for Railway Crossings and Culverts, should come that way on his tour, try to get to know him and to learn something about the Jugpore and Bottleabad Chord Line that keeps the members of our Chamber of Commerce awake o' nights. He won't tell you anything; but you may get a hint from his silences if you are discreet. Mudsworth is not a common name; and you might discover you were a cousin of some kind. Good-bye! Have a pleasant time, and send me some good work."
I arrived at Ajaibgaum in time for the opening of the Exhibition, which was an imposing ceremony. There was a grand procession of Rajas and Chiefs, with elephants, camels, horses and retainers. Brave English women had come in from many a weary mile round, and were as brilliantly arrayed as for a South Kensington horticultural fête. Committees and sub-Committees, decorated with rosettes, filed past and arranged themselves right and left of a daïs surmounted by a canopy; the native chiefs were marshalled in due order, and last of all came the great Sir Rupert Boldick. He stood in front of his gilded chair with folded arms and a severe expression of countenance, watching till all were in their places. Then with great deliberation he winked,—not humorously but slowly—a grave and politic wink, a preconcerted signal to the Executive Engineer who drew the side of his photographic camera with a startling click to secure a record of the scene for the illustrated papers. The Raja of Pagulnuggur at that instant detected the Nawab of Bewaqufabad edging closer up to the daÏs than he was entitled; and spoilt
