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ENERAL GRANT'S party arrived in Calcutta at five o'clock on the morning of the 10th of March, after a severe and distressing ride from Benares. The American Consul-General, General Litchfield, the aide-de-camp of the Viceroy, and a guard of honor of the Bengal troops were in waiting. We drove off in the state carriages with an escort of cavalry to the Government House. The streets had been watered, and there was just a suspicion of a cool breeze from the Hoogly, which, after the discomforts of the long night ride, made our morning ride pleasant. A line of policemen was ranged from the railway station to the door of the Government House, a distance of about two miles. The Government House is a large, ornate building, standing in an open park, the corner-stone of which was laid about the time that Washington laid the foundation of our capitol. It is built

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THE VICEROY'S COUNTRY-SEAT.

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evening there was a state banquet, attended by the high authorities of the British empire.

Next day there was an excursion to the Viceroy's countryseat at Barrackpoor, Sir Ashley Eden, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, doing the honors in the name of the Viceroy. Barrackpoor is a country-seat, about twelve miles up the Hoogly river. Our party was small, comprising the leading members of the government and their families. We drove to the dock under a beating noon-day sun. The scenery of the Hoogly reminds you of the low, tropical banks of the St. John's river, in Florida, but it is a narrower stream, and the aspect of nature is gloomy compared with what you see in Florida, where the orange groves light up the landscape. The Hoogly teems. with life, with boatmen in all kinds of floating contrivances. The navigation of an Indian stream must be a good deal trusting to fate. Our currents were wayward, and the vessel was more a floating hotel than a water-going craft. When we came bumping against the side of a clumsy lump of a vessel with such force as would tear away the iron-work and make the steamer buzz and tremble, everybody seemed to take it as a matter of course.

The view of Barrackpoor from the river is beautiful, because you see what is so rare in India-green rolling meadow land. Were it not for the tropical foliage and noble banyan trees it would not be difficult to fancy that Barrackpoor was a bit of Richmond on the Thames. Barrackpoor has a melancholy prominence in the history of India. Here the first of the mutiny occurred, in the history of the greased cartridges. Before the government authorities took to the hills for the summer, Barrackpoor was a country-seat, holding the same relation to the Government House in Calcutta that the Soldiers' Home did in Mr. Lincoln's days to the White House at Washington. Barrackpoor, except as a military station, and as the occasional resort for a picnic party, has been practically abandoned. We landed from our steamer in a small yacht, and had quite a walk in the relentless sun until we came to a marquee tent, pitched under a banyan tree, where a band was playing and servants

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We had a merry, pleasant feast were arranging a table for us. under this banyan tree, and we studied our tree with interest, The tree itself as one of the extraordinary forms of nature. was a small grove, and you could walk in, and around, and through its trunks and branches as easily as among the columns. of a mosque. Unless the tree is checked, it will spread and spread, every branch, as it touches the earth, developing into a root and throwing out new branches, until, as we read in nursery days, an army may encamp under its branches. After our picnic it was pleasant to stroll around Barrackpoor and take that

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OUR ENTRANCE INTO CALCUTTA.

delight which is among the pleasures of an Indian journey-a
Your eyes are
delight in the constant surprises of nature.
accustomed to your own flowers and forms of forest and garden
growth-the oak, the ash, the sycamore, the modest daisy, and
the wholesome virtuous clover that blossoms in the meadows.
You look in vain for the old forms familiar to you from child-
hood, and that were always your friends, even when the world
grew dark and early sorrows swept over your young and trem-
bling life. These trees are what you have read of in poems and
ghost stories and Indian tales. There is the mango-tree, giving
pleasant fruit, said to be among the atonements for the cruelty

PICNIC UNDER A BANYAN TREE.

139

of Indian life, but which you shall not see until we come to Singapore. Every one has been telling us of the comfort we shall find in the mango, and that even though we came from the land of fruits, we shall surrender our peach and pear to its superior attractions. All that we have seen of it thus far has been a candied mango, sent by our friend the Maharajah of Bhurtpoor, but so killed by the sugar that it might easily have been a pumpkin or a melon rind. We have had also a curry of mango, but the flavor was so crushed under the spices that it might have passed for radish or celery. As a tree, however, it is royal, green, and rich. We note, also, the tamarind-tree, under which you cannot pitch your tent because of the unwholesome exhalation. Here is the pipel and the Japanese acacia, the banana, with its hospitable leaves, the bamboo, the orange, unlimited cactus, until you grow weary of cactus, a very world of ferns, and the rose in endless profusion. You observe that all animal life enjoys a freedom unusual to our rapacious, destroying eyes, accustomed as we are to look upon everything that God has made as something for man to kill. In India animal life, from the insect to the prowling beast from the jungle, is ever near you. I presume it arises from the religion of the natives, which throws protection over all animal nature. As you stroll through Indian gardens, or about an Indian forest, you see animal life in every form. The monkey, for instance, is more common than the squirrel at home. When you sit down at your picnic table the birds of prey circle around and around you, until the meal is done, to take your place. We return from Barrackpoor to Calcutta in time to dress for a state dinner at the Government House, the last to be given by Lord Lytton before leaving for Simla. This dinner was made an occasion for presenting General Grant to the leading members of the princely native houses.

We had a reception of this kind in Bombay, but the scene in Calcutta was more brilliant. When the dinner was over, and Lord Lytton escorted Mrs. Grant to the reception-room, the halls were filled with a brilliant and picturesque assembly. A company of native gentlemen looks like a fancy-dress ball.

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