From Elephant Kheddcr to Crocodile Tank 367 



The excitement of the khedder over, we returned 

 to Mysore, where we were royally entertained by 

 the Maharajah in the Guest House as fine a building 

 as any in India. Our great bedrooms were cool and 

 luxurious, and a magnificent hall, furnished as a sitting- 

 room, one side open to the drive-up, and park and 

 gardens beyond, was delightful to sit in. 



Our party now consisted of General Sir G. Wolseley, 

 Colonel Neville, Major Evelegh, Mrs. Borton, her 

 black poodle, Miss Caldwell, my brother, and myself ; 

 we had the Guest House to ourselves. The Maharajah, 

 a boy of thirteen, was away, but several officers and 

 his own English tutor had been deputed to do the 

 honours most hospitable and cheery they were. 



Mrs. Borton, Miss Caldwell, and myself paid a State 

 call upon the Maharanee, a small, dark individual with 

 wonderful jewels and embroidered garments ; she 

 talked little, and gave us each as a souvenir a small 

 bottle of otto of roses when we withdrew. 



The palace was interesting, though French and 

 modern ; for example, the extraordinary collection 

 of clockwork toys this included a bed which played 

 tunes under the mattress directly anybody lay down 

 on it. There was a phonograph, which repeated a 

 speech of Mr. Gladstone's ; and there was a truly 

 magnificent collection of gems and jewelry. Though 

 for the most part uncut, or indifferently cut, the 

 enormous size of the stones was staggering, and I 

 revere the individual intrepid enough to wear 

 them. 



