CUDDALORE One morning at dawn we manage to squeeze ourselves into a jutka, which is to take us to Cuddalore. The operation requires considerable skill and agility, for the jutka is a small box on two wheels. A small pony drags the box, and a large naked black savage drives it. At full gallop we proceed through the streets of Pondicherry. Our body sways to and fro, and our knees, being in our mouth, threaten to dislocate our jaws. When we reach the suburb we pray for mercy and implore the driver to stop. We prefer to walk, and with some difficulty we extricate our bruised and battered bodies. Delightful was it to enjoy once more the use of our limbs. The morning was fresh and the sea was golden with the rising sun. The peasants were coming to market. The men looked fine robust fellows, and many of the young women were handsome, and one was struck with the free grace that distinguished their move ments as they went by, carrying huge baskets on their heads. Men and women laughed and chatted, and the children trotted by their side, looking solemn and grave, as only Oriental children can. But they are always picturesque, with their naked legs and their short bright jackets of orange and yellow. Large carts laden with vegetables rolled by, and we were struck with the size of the oxen, their delicate skins, and long stately horns. The road, lined with large trees, passes through a fertile country, dotted with populous villages. The ryots are working in the fields, and from a broad tank close by comes a creaking sound. It is due to the water buckets which the men are raising with their feet as they have done from time immemorial in the east. " The land whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, where thou sowest thy seed, and watercdst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs ; but it is a land of hills and valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven." The sun now grows too powerful for us to continue our walk, and we have again to resort to the jutka. Deeply re
joiced are we when, after driving through a stately avenue, we reach the porch of a fine upper-storied house. It is the official residence of the Collector, and with the wide and generous hospitality, which is a special characteristic of the Madras Presidency, he had kindly placed it at our dis posal, and sent servants to attend to our wants. The house has many historic associations, for it is the garden house so often mentioned in the old Madras records, and was built one hundred and sixty years ago. Orme writes : " At the distance of a mile and a half to the north-west of Fort St. David was a country house, appointed for the residency of the Governor, behind which, to the north, was a large garden, inclosed with a brick wall, and, before the house to the south, a court with buildings on each side of it." The garden, with its old trees, still exists, and the buildings on each side of the court have been converted into offices for the Collector. In two rooms are neatly arranged the old muniments. Turning over their leaves we realize more fully than we did before that the founders of the Empire were factors and merchants. It is the price of mulmuls and taftas which occupied their minds, and they devoted their days to drawing up charter-parties and bills of lading. They ask their masters to send them writers and workmen, and they are greatly pleased when they receive a letter from Madras advising that " they had sent us one John Dyer, a bricklayer, whom our honourable masters have entertained to serve for five years at the rate of ninety pounds sterling per annum, to commence from July 18, the day of his arrival." But these factors were not mere money-making merchants, for the old records bear witness that they were endowed with a strong sense of duty to God and their country, whose honour and interests they were always ready to defend, and many a street fight and many a signal deed of valour did the old fort witness.