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swallowed the paung from Shah Jehan, though he knew it to be poisoned.'

The

In a hut which Mrs. Graham visited with her friends, she found three very pretty children playing round their grandmother, who was sitting on the ground in a little viranda at the end of the house, grinding rice for the evening meal of the family. The mill consists of two round flat stones, in the lower one of which there is a groove to let out the flour; the middle of the upper one is inserted into a hollow in the other, and is turned by a wooden peg stuck into it, about one-third of the diameter from the edge. Three or four goats, with their kids, were tied to stakes round the door, and a few fowls were running about in the garden. party sat by the old woman while she made her bread, but at a sufficient distance not to pollute her cooking utensils or her fire. Every vessel she used, though apparently clean before, she carefully washed, and then mixed her rice flour with milk, water, and salt, when she beat it between the palms of her hands till it was round and thin, and baked it on a round iron plate, such as is used in Scotland for oat cakes. Besides these cakes, she prepared a few heads of maize, by rubbing off the chaff and laying them in the fire to roast for the family supper. At the next hut, the woman was grinding missala, or curry stuff, on a flat smooth stone, with another shaped like a rollmg-pin. Less than an English halfpenny procures enough of turmeric, spice, salt, and ghee, to season the whole of the rice eaten in a day by a labourer, his wife, and five or six children; the vegetables and acids he requires are found in every hedge. The curry was cooked with as much cleanliness as the bread, and the inside of both the huts was beautifully neat. In one corner in each, a large stone, with red powder sprinkled on it, stood as a household god, and before it were laid a few grains of rice and a cocoa nut as offerings.

The place where our authoress resided, she describes as a little paradise; but for the reptiles peculiar to the climate. Snakes, from the enormous rock snake, who first breaks the bones of his prey, by coiling round it, and then swallows it

whole, to the smallest of the venomous tribe, glide about in. every direction. Here the cobra-capella, whose bite is in almost every instance mortal, lifts his graceful folds, and spreads his many-coloured crest; here too lurks the small bright speckled cobra-manilla, whose fangs convey instant death.

It

The manners of the English at Bombay are described as similar to those of a country town at home. The merchants are the most intelligent, and the ladies under-bred and over-drest. The dinner parties are dull, ceremonious, and uncomfortable. Each guest brings his own servant, sometimes two or three; these are either Parsees or mussulmans. appears singular to a stranger to see behind every white man's chair a dark, long bearded, turbaned gentleman, who usually stands so close to his master, as to make no trifling addition to the heat of the apartment; indeed, were it not for the punka (a large frame of wood covered with cloth), which is suspended over every table, and kept constantly swinging, in order to freshen the air, it would scarcely be possible to sit out the melancholy ceremony of an Indian dinner.

On leaving the eating-room,' says Mrs. Graham, one generally sees or hears, in some place near the door, the cleaning of dishes, and the squabbling of cooks for their perquisites. If they are within sight, one perceives a couple of dirty Portuguese (black men who eat pork and wear breeches) directing the operations of half a dozen still dirtier Parias, who are scraping dishes and plates with their hands, and then, with the same unwashen paws, putting aside the next day's tiffin for their master's table.

The equipage that conveys one from a party, if one does not use a palanquin, is curious. The light and elegant figure of the Arab horses is a strong contrast with the heavy carriages and clumsy harness generally seen here. The coachman is always a whiskered Parsee, with a gay coloured turban, and a muslin or chintz gown, and there are generally two massalgees, or torch-bearers, and sometimes two horse-keepers, to run before one. On getting home, one finds a sepoy or peon walking round the open virandas of the house as a guard.

We have four of these servants, two of whom remain in the house for 24 hours, when they are relieved by the two others. These men carry messages, go to market, and attend to the removal of goods or furniture, but will carry nothing themselves heavier than a small book. The female servants are Portuguese, and they only act as ladies-maids, all household work being done by men, as well as the needle-work of the family.

The derdjees, or tailors, in Bombay, are Hindoos of a respectable cast, who wear the zenaar, (a consecrated thread worn over one shoulder by the high casts). My derdjee, a tall good-looking young man, wears a fine worked muslin gown, and a red or purple turban bordered with gold. He works and cuts out beautifully, making as much use of his toes as of his fingers in the last operation. Besides the hamauls for the palanquins, we have some for house-work; they make the beds, sweep and clean the rooms and furniture, and fetch water; on any emergency they help the palanquin bearers, and receive assistance from them in return. For the meaner offices we have a Hallalcor or Chandela, (one of the most wretched Parias), who attend twice a-day. Two massalgees clean and light the lamps and candles, and carry the torches before us at night. One of these is a Paria, so that he can clean knives, remove bones and rubbish, which his fellow-servant Nersu, who is of a good cast, will not do. Nersu fetches bread and flour, carries messages, and even parcels, provided they be not large enough to make him appear like a kooli, or porter, and takes the greatest share of preparing the lamps, which are finger-glasses or tumblers half filled with water, on which they pour the cocoa nut oil, always calculating it exactly to the number of hours the lamp has to burn; the wick is made of cotton twisted round a splinter of bamboo. The native masons, carpenters, and blacksmiths, are remarkably neat and dexterous in their several trades. There is plenty of stone on the island for building, but a good deal of brick is used. All the lime here is made from shells.

The Indian carpenter's tools are so coarse, and the native wood is so hard, that one would wonder that the work is ever

performed. Almost every thing is done with a chissel and an axe. The gimlet is a long piece of iron wire with a flat point, fixed into a wooden handle consisting of two parts, the upper one of which is held in one hand, while the other is turned by a bow, whose string is twisted twice round it. The plane is small, but similar to that of Europe, excepting that it has a cross stick in the front, which serves as a handle for another workman, two being generally employed at one plane. As the comforts of a carpenter's bench are unknown, when a Hindoo wants to plane his work, he sits on the ground, with his partner opposite to him, steadying the timber with their toes, and both plane together. I have seen two of them working in this manner on a bit of wood a foot square, with a plane three inches long. Even the blacksmiths sit down to do their work. They dig a hole 18 inches or 2 feet deep, in the centre of which they place the anvil, so that they sit by it with their legs in the hole. A native of India does not get through so much work as an European; but the multitude of hands, and the consequent cheapness of labour, supply the place of the industry of Europe, and in most cases that of its machinery also.

"It reminds one of the Arabian Nights Entertainments, to go through the bazar, or market, of an evening. The whole fronts of the shops are taken down and converted into benches, on which the goods are disposed, and each shop is lighted with at least two lamps. Here you see grain of every description heaped up in earthen jars; there, sweetmeats of all sorts and shapes, disposed in piles on benches, or hung in festoons about the top and sides of the shop, which is commonly lined with chintz or dyed cotton. Farther on, fruits and vegetables are laid out to the best advantage; then you come to the paung, or betle leaf, nut, and chunam, ready for chewing, or the seperate materials; beyond are shops for perfumes, linens, oils, toys, brass, and earthen ware, all set out in order, and the owner sitting bolt upright in the middle of his sweetmeats or grain, waiting for custom. The shops of the schroffs, or bankers, are numerous in the bazar; you see the master sitting in the middle of his money-table, surrounded VOL. IV.

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by piles of copper and silver money, with scales for weighing the rupees and other coins presented for change. But it is the barber's shop that is always most crowded, being, particularly at night, the great resort for gossip and news, on which account the natives call it gup shop; the barbers themselves seem to enjoy a prescriptive right to be lively, witty, and good story-tellers. I have seen some excellent buffoons among them, and a slap given to a bald new-shaven pate, in the proper part of a story, has set half a bazar in a roar. The barbers keep every body's holidays,----Hindoos, Jews, mussulmans, Armenians, Portuguese, and English,--and reap a good harvest at each by their comic way of begging.

On coming first here, one would imagine that noue of the people ever slept at night; for, besides that the coppersmiths and blacksmiths generally work all night, and sleep all day, on account of the heat, there are processions going about from sunset till sunrise, with tom-toms (small drums), kettledrums, citarrs, vins, pipes, and a kind of large brazen trumpet, which requires two people to carry it, making altogether the most horrible din I ever heard. These processions, with the picturesque dresses of the natives, and their graceful attitudes, the torches carried by children, and the little double pipe blown by boys, whose wildness might make them pass for satyres, put one strongly in mind of the ancient Bacchanals. It is usually on account of marriages that these nocturnal feasts are held. When they are in honour of a god they take place in the day, when the deity is carried on a litter in triumph, with banners before and behind, and priests carrying flowers, and milk and rice, while hardly any one joins the procession without an offering. All this looks very well at a distance, but, on coming near, one is shocked at the meanness and inelegance of the god, and at the filth and wretchedness of his votaries.'

After giving some account of the Hindoo mythology, and of a visit to the island of Elephanta, our authoress set out on an excursion to Poonah, the Maratta capital. Our company," says she, consists of one lady, two gentlemen, and three

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