and from the moment of arrival I am the recipient of unstinted attention.  A large reclining chair is placed immediately beneath the punkah, and a punkah-wallah, ambitious to please, causes the frilled hangings of this desirable and necessary piece of furniture to wave vigorously to and fro but a foot or eighteen inches above my head.  A smiling servant kneels at my feet and proceeds to knead and “groom” the muscles of the legs.  Judging from the attentions lavished upon my pedal extremities, one might well imagine me to be a race-horse that had just endeared himself to his groom and owner by winning the Derby.

An ample supper is followed by a most refreshing sleep, and in the morning, when ready to depart, my watchful attendants present themselves with broad smiles and sheets of paper.  Each one wants a certificate showing that he has contributed to my comfort and entertainment, and lastly comes the nawab himself and his bosom friend, the hospital doctor, to bid me farewell and request the same favor.  This certificate-foible is one of the greatest bores in India; almost every native who performs any service for a Sahib, whether in the capacity of a mere waiter at a native hotel, or as retainer of some wealthy nabob—­and not infrequently the nabob himself, if a government official—­wants a testimonial expressing one’s approval of his services.  An old servitor who has mingled much among Europeans must have whole reams of these useless articles stowed away.  What in the world they want with them is something of a puzzler; though the idea is, probably, that they might come in useful to obtain a situation some time or other.

South of Paniput the trees alongside the road are literally swarming with monkeys; they file in long strings across the road, looking anxiously behind, evidently frightened at the strange appearance of the bicycle.  Shinnying up the toddy-palms, they ensconce themselves among the foliage and peer curiously down at me as I wheel past, giving vent to their perturbation in excited cries.  Twenty-five miles down the road, an hour is spent beneath a grove of shady peepuls, watching the amusing antics of a troop of monkeys in the branches.  Their marvellous activity among the trees is here displayed to perfection, as they quarrel and chase one another from tree to tree.  The old ones seem passively irritable and decidedly averse to being bothered by the antics and mischievous activity of the youngsters.  Taking possession of some particular branch, they warn away all would-be intruders with threatening grimaces and feints.  The youthful members of the party are skillful of pranks and didoes, carried on to the great annoyance of their more aged and sedate relatives, who, in revenge, put in no small portion of their time punishing or pursuing them with angry cries for their deeds of wanton annoyance.  One monkey, that has very evidently been there many and many a time before on the same thievish errand, with an air of amusing secrecy and