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thinking that the dance had served every useful purpose, said a word to the Prince, who made a sign, the dance stopped, the girls vanished, and the whole party retired to the billiard room.
The Maharajah plays billiards when he is not at prayers. He was anxious to have a game with the General. The General played in an indiscriminate, promiscuous manner, and made some wonderful shots in the way of missing balls he intended to strike. Mr. Borie, whose interest in the General's fortunes extends to billiards, began to deplore those eccentric experiments, when the General said he had not played billiards for thirty years. The Maharajah tried to lose the game, and said to one of his attendants that he was anxious to show the General that delicate mark of hospitality. The game ended, His Highness winning.
Then they strolled into the gardens, and looked at the palace towers, which the Prince took pleasure in showing to the General, and which looked airy and beautiful in the rosy shadows of the descending sun. There were beds of flowers and trees, and the coming night, which comes so swiftly in these latitudes, brought a cooling breeze. Then His Highness gave each a photograph of his royal person, consecrated with his royal autograph, which he wrote on the top of a marble railing. Then they strolled toward the grand hall of ceremony to take leave. Taking leave is a solemn act in India. The party entered the spacious hall, where the Prince received the Prince of Wales. Night had come so rapidly, that servants came in all directions carrying candles and torches that lit up the gaudy and glittering hall. An attendant carried a tray bearing wreaths of the rose and jasmine. The Maharajah, taking two of these wreaths, put them on the neck of the General. He did the same to Mrs. Grant, and all the members of the party. Then, taking a string of gold and silken cord, he placed that on Mrs. Grant as a special honor. The Gen
eral, who was instructed by the English Resident, took four wreaths and put them on the neck of the Maharajah, who pressed his hands and bowed his thanks. Another servant came, bearing a small cup of gold and gems containing ottar of roses. The Maharajah, putting some of the perfume on his fingers, transferred it to Mrs. Grant's handkerchief. With another portion he passed his hands along the General's breast and shoulders. This was done to each of the party. The General then taking the perfume, passed his hands over the Maharajah's shoulders, and so concluding the ceremony, which, in all royal interviews in the East, is supposed to mean a lasting friendship. Then the Prince, taking General Grant's hand in his own, led him from the hall, across the garden and to the gateway of his palace, holding his hand all the time. The carriages were waiting, and the Prince took his leave saying how much he was honored by the General's visit. The cavalry escort formed in line, the guard presented arms, and the visitors drove at full gallop to their home. And so ended one of the most interesting and eventful days in the General's visit to India.
CHAPTER XXXII. *
STILL IN INDIA. General Grant and party visited the Maharajah of Burt. poor, a young prince about thirty years of age. His state is small - its area 1,974 miles, with a population of 743,710, and a revenue of $15,000,000. The day was hot, and the ride had been through a low country, the scenery not very attractive at the best, but now brown and arid under a steaming sun. Arrived at the station, all Burtpoor seemed to be awaiting the General's appearance, with the Maharajah at the head. The prince was accompanied by the British officers attached to his court, and, advancing, shook hands with the General and welcomed him to his capital. He wore a blazing uniform, covered with jewels. He had a firm, stern face, with strong features, a good frame, and unlike his brother of Jeypore, who gives his days to prayers and his evenings to billiards; and, although he has the Star of India, has long since seen the vanity of human glory, and hates power, is a soldier and a sportsman, and is called a firm and energetic ruler. From the station the party drove to the palace, through a town whose dismantled walls speak of English valor and English shame, past bazaars, where people seemed to sell nothing, only to broil in the sunshine, and under a high archway into a courtyard, and thence to the palace. There was nothing special about the palace, except that it was very large and very uncomfortable. The prince does not live in this palace, but in one more suited to Oriental tastes. It was here where he received