Kashmir led his honoured guest to the Palace prepared for his reception.

Oh, Bobs Bahadur, jewel of my heart, why are you not at the head of a nice little force, consisting mostly of Highlanders and Goorkas? You could make everything so comfortable both for us poor Anglo-Indians, who need a better climate for our children, and for the poor Mahomedan population of Kashmir.

The first view of Srinagar, as one comes up the Jhelum, is decidedly fascinating, and the title of Venice of the East seems well deserved. It is only when approached from the land side that one realizes what a dirty hole it is.

As each new arrival comes in sight, slowly punted up stream, he is waylaid by scores of little boats, in which are seated jewellers, shawl merchants, fur sellers, papier maché makers, etc., all anxious to be allowed to inscribe a fresh victim's name, unlimited credit being the order of the day, and money a thing unheard of.

Beware, dear new arrival!

It is very easy to get into debt in Kashmir, but precious hard to leave the country without paying.

I could fill a good-sized volume with stories about the doings of some of the chief native bankers, but verbum sap.

It is now quite easy to get money through the post, and there is not the slightest necessity for banking any money during one's six months' stay.

Bachelors, when in Srinagar, must pitch their tents in the Chenar Bagh, whilst married people are relegated to the Munshi Bagh; at first sight the bachelors seem to have the best of it, but in May and June certain odours pervade the former grove, which leave little to be desired in the way of nastiness.

Driven onward by these odours we embarked again, and were paddled across the beautiful Dall lake, which lies inland behind Srinagar, to the Nuseem Bagh, a lovely

camping ground, overhead gigantic plain trees and underfoot soft green turf.

Oh, Mangiji! here will we pitch our tents; here shall your skilful hands construct a Chattai hut, where Babu Lal, grimiest of cooks, may concoct his savoury messes. You and yours will, I know, occupy one of the boats, leaving the other for the two bearers and the khitmugar!

Now, then, a hammock must be slung from those great branches, and an awning fixed overhead. With books, fruit, and pleasant company let us rest awhile and fancy ourselves lotus eaters.

The unbroken stillness, the balmy air, the beauty of the scenery all combine to make one rest contentedly, which after the ceaseless activity of a business man's life in India is most soothing and restoring.

Nearly opposite our camping ground lay the Shalimar gardens, up which the lovely Lalla Rookh was wafted to meet her lord and master, Feramorz. Many a time do

joyous parties paddle across to these shady groves, and the hearty laughter of ribald English subalterns disturbs the stately repose of bygone Mogul kings, when ever and anon they revisit this spot where so many of their happiest hours were passed.

These picnic parties invariably start out in the most decorous manner, in two or more large boats, but somehow or other the return journey by moonlight is always effected in small skiffs, tête-à-tête. The amount of sentimental bilge water expended thus annually is said to affect the rise and fall of the Ghelum.

Further to the right we can see the terraces of the Nishat Bagh, where the ruler of Kashmir takes a dreary delight in watching some cleverly contrived jets d'eau.

The Maharajah of Jamu and Kashmir is a miserable, decrepit-looking creature, whose personal habits and morality make even the Kashmiri Mangi blush, and would be far more in his place in a tread-mill than lording it over his miserable subjects.

Q

His two younger brothers, Ram Singh and Amar Singh, hate each other like poison, and try to cut each other out in the most childish manner, as, for instance, Ram Singh had a tiny little steam tug built for him, whereupon Amar Singh promptly orders one twice as big. Ram Singh, I believe, is negotiating the purchase of a juvenile Great Eastern.

Since these lines were written, I am aware that the Maharajah has been decorated and restored to his place and power; but I care not, and the truth remains that to support so vile a despot and so contemptible a man is unworthy of England's greatness.

Having thus relieved my feelings, I may with a clear conscience turn to the real work of life in Kashmir, which is to frivol.

Barring, of course, the Resident and the worthy brothers Neve, we all came here with frivolous intent.

If

you doubt me come round to the top of the Chenar Bagh, where some of the Royal