Prev | Current Page 113 | Next

Douglas, O., 1877-1948

"Olivia in India"


I was awakened at 3 a.m., and the aged crone helped me to pack up
my bedding. I gave her a rupee, which afterwards I regretted when
Autolycus pointed out she had stolen a sheet.
We crossed the Ganges in the grey dawn, a clammy fog shrouding
everything. Nothing was visible but a stretch of wan water, and one or
two natives near the bank bathing in the holy river. We were the only
Europeans travelling, till at one station a nice old priest came in,
of what nationality we couldn't make out. I was pondering it when I
discovered that my bangle with the miniature, which I always wear,
wasn't on my wrist. We looked up, and down, and round about, and then
I shouted, "Why, there it is!" And there it was lying on the priest's
lap. He looked so utterly dumbfoundered, poor dear man, and blushed
all over his fat, good-natured face, and I, when I realized I had
pointed an accusing finger, was also covered with confusion. We tried
to explain that it had come off with my glove, but he merely bowed
repeatedly and made hurt ejaculations in some unknown tongue, so we
were reduced to an uneasy silence.
About twelve o'clock we had breakfast in the refreshment-room of a
station. We had wired for it, so it was ready. First we got ham and
eggs. The ham was evidently tinned, and the eggs were quite black. I
poked my share suspiciously and asked what made it so black. "Pepper,"
said Boggley, who was eating away quite placidly.
Pepper! As if I couldn't recognize plain dirt when I saw it.


Pages:
101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125