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in India for piling timber?" On my answering in the affirmative, he continued:

"No! you won't 'eed nothin' else,
But them spicy garlic smells,

An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the
tinkly temple-bells."

This time he questioned me, "Do they use much garlic in India?"

again :

Then he continued

"Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer
Chelsea to the Strand,

An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do
they understand?

Beefy face an' grubby 'and—

Law! wot do they understand?

I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner,
greener land!” -

This time he said, "Does your heart pine for the girls you left behind in India? Tell me Mr. De, are Kipling's pictures overcoloured?"

I answer that question for the third time, but still I have no relief, for in the meantime a fourth arrives. I was thinking in my mind what his question would be,-would he harp upon the same Kipling theme, or would he

turn the tide of conversation into some other channel? No my first surmise was correct. He began the conversation by saying that he was very fond of Kipling. He had been lately reading his Jungle Books and Plain Tales from the Hills with great interest. In the meantime I had managed somehow to finish my lunch, and before the fourth gentleman could ask me if the tales he had been lately reading were of an exaggerated character or true to life, I bade good-bye to all and made a hasty retreat.

The next day I found myself a victim in the columns of the New Haven Register. These are some of the lines:


His turban made life exciting at first, but now he likes it.

Don't mention Kipling to him.

New Haven's cosmopolitan family of students from the four corners of the world

received a noteworthy addition in the arrival of Mr. I. B. De of India. Mr. De is now

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beginning to enjoy his New Haven life, but at first he was rather up against it in the matter of American customs. For a few days after his arrival, he appeared before a startled public, wearing a bright yellow turban, which made him a close ringer for the Raja of Bong in The Country Girl. . . Although Mr. De is making friends fast, his troubles are not yet over. Every student he has so far been introduced to has opened the conversation by enquiring "Tell me, Mr. De, are Kipling's books on India true to life?" The mere

mention of Kipling now is sufficient to put Mr. De to full flight.



"Is he a genuine Hindu ?"-Il Penseroso and L' Allegro-Hindu music-"Does polygamy exist in India ?" "Does the colour of your turban signify caste ?"

A friend of mine telephoned to the President of Richmond Women's College about my desire to visit his institution, and the following conversation went on between them on the phone.

President. You say your friend is from India. Is he a Hindu?

Friend. Yes.

Pr. Is he a genuine one?

Fr. (laughing) O, yes.

Pr. I shall be very pleased, indeed, to have him visit my College. I have not much to show him though; the building is an old one, but I can show him a bunch of pretty girls, if that would interest him.

Fr. (laughing) That is what my friend is particularly interested in. I am sure he would enjoy seeing the girls more than anything else.

Pr. Does your friend talk English?

Fr. Why, he got the Master's Degree from Cornell.

Pr. Did he? Would it suit you to bring him over at five o'clock?

Fr. I think so.

Pr. Come at five then; we shall be very glad to have you.

We go at the appointed time. We press the electric bell. A Mulatto girl opens the door. We give her our cards. She takes us in the drawing room. The President, who is also the Pastor of a Church in Richmond,venerable gentleman with grey hair, now makes his appearance. He gives me a hearty handshake and takes me to the platform of the auditorium of his College, and there I stand face to face with a whole crowd of Virginia queens. The President whispers in my ear that the girls would like to hear a few words

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