146 RIFLE AXD SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. 



unmistakable railway signal shows we have reached our 

 journey's end. 



It was a lonely little road-side station, quite deserted, 

 not even a porter in sight. Alan appeared and took me to 

 the sleeping carriage, where I was pleased to see my bed 

 ready prepared. There had been great trouble about this 

 carriage. It seems that the station-master — an excellent 

 specimen of the English-speaking Bengali baboo — had not 

 received our letter, and no carriage had been reserved. He 

 could not even promise us one, but told Alan it was all 

 right ; the hill post was often a day late, and he would 

 certainly receive our letter to-morrow. Then he gravely 

 said, "And when, Sare, the letter shall arrive, I will endorse 

 it, ' Received too late to execute,' and forward it to your 

 address. So, Sare, everything will be in order." His office- 

 moulded mind was quite unable to grasp that a properly 

 docketed correspondence would not compensate us for the 

 loss of a night's rest. However, after some delay, Alan 

 discovered and took possession of a carriage which he got. 

 put on the train. 



I once read in an old book that "were we English to 

 leave India, empty beer bottles would be the only relics of 

 our rule." To "beer bottles" should be added " baboos," 

 for they are the unique growth of our educational system 

 grafted on to the Bengali brain. In Government and rail 

 way offices the baboo is most useful — in fact as indispensable 



