large mosque. In the suburbs is a people’s park and
wild beasts, here also are the palatial residences of
the Europeans ; walls, verandahs and pillars covered
with Madras chunam, which gives them the appearance
of fine marble. There are excellent broad roads
in every direction, and to judge from the number of
elegant carriages rolling along in the afternoon, one
would imagine that there must be considerable wealth
in the place. There is also a club, one of the best in
India, and during the cool season private theatricals
are the rage. Here I saw “ Nothing venture, nothing
win” capitally performed by officers of the 17th
Lancers. The races, likewise, take place there, and
all these are matters to talk about. On reaching
Madras I had the good luck to be invited to stay
with a friend at one of the best appointed establishments
; a comfortable West-end brougham covered all
over with white quilting, the very sight of which made
one forget the tremendous heat, took me to its destination.
On alighting I found the ample verandah,
which for blinds had chicks or tattees, made of
split bamboo, hung between the pillars, thronged with
white robed domestics, some dusting, others pulling
the punkahs, cleaning the lamps, moving chairs, etc.,
and in one comer there were a couple of tailors
squatting on the cool mosaic intent upon a shirt front
or a ball dress, for all I knew to the contrary. At
dinner there was generally company, and a recherché
menu of delicacies ; in fact, during the week I spent
with my friend I undoubtedly found myself in clover :
a carriage was always at my disposal, and I never had
occasion to feel hot, for whenever I moved from one
seat to another, or from a room to the verandah, at
once its respective punkah was set in motion ; even
during the night it continued its function, and finding
the constant fanning inconvenient, I, with the greatest
difficulty, stopped it by grasping it tight with both my
hands. These punkah wallahs, at night, frequently
fall asleep during their monotonous occupation, when
people requiring their services wake them by emptying
a jug of water over their head through the open
window. There is, however, one custom that ought
to be abolished, that is the final salaming on the part
of all the domestics of the establishment, from the
butler to the sweeper, with a view of receiving a rupee,
which no guest can escape ; from the moment you have
swallowed your last meal they waylay you at every
step until you depart.
About fifty miles south-west of Madras is the pretty
town of Conjeveram, celebrated for its silk manufactories
and temples, moreover familiar to Anglo-Indians
H 2