replied that it had not; but that some day it hoped to pass the matriculation examination of the Calcutta University. I whistled the opening oars of one of Cheruhini's Kequiems, but I saw no resurrection in its eye; so I passed on.
When I was at Lhassa the Dalai Lama told me that a virtuous cow-hippopotamus by metempsychosis might, under unfavourable circumstances, become an undergraduate of the Calcutta University, and that, when patent-leather shoes and English supervened, the thing was a Baboo.
I forget whether it was the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr. Lethbridge, or General Scindia—I always mix up these C.I.E.'s together in my mind somehow—who told me that a Bengali Baboo had never been known to laugh, but only to giggle with clicking noises like a crocodile. Now this is very telling evidence; because if a baboo does not laugh at a C.I.E. he will laugh at nothing. The faculty must be wanting.
When Lord Macaulay said that what the milk was to the cocoa-nut, what beauty was to the buffalo, and what scandal was to
