scenes as need be. One of them, my brother, was an antiquarian and a poet and a traveller,—all rolled into one! He had visited every classic spot in Nothern India, from Janakpur in Nepal to the hills of Jummu and Kashmir, and had now taken a bolder flight across the seas with the same unabated rage for travelling. The other Mr. B. L. Gupta, had been my friend and companion in my first visit to Europe, we had lived and toiled and won the prize together, we had returned to India together and had worked in the same service, and now we had taken our furlough and meant to do a little globe-trotting together!
Well, then, we resolved unanimously to leave London and do a little travelling;—but, like many a meeting that comes to a unanimous resolution, we found a difficulty in carrying out the resolution. And the difficulty was this, whither shall we go?
America? It is a country well worth a visit! A vast continent, with its magnificent lakes and primeval forests, its boundless prairies and wonderful natural features, its Mississippi, its Niagra, and its young and vigorous civilization! But to see this great country to any purpose, one must study it well,—and that requires more time than we have at our disposal now. We must leave America, therefore, for a prolonged visit on some future occasion.
Shall we go to Italy or France then? Italy and the south of France are best seen in September or even in October. And we may take Austria and Germany too on our way to Italy.
