‘I had an animated conversation with these burly fellows—not the birds, but the men—if that could be called a conversation, where the talking was almost entirely on one side. I had my Parable of the Two Paths with me, and spoke very plainly about Paradise and Hell;—and they listened to the old lady with perfect good-humour. I dare say that the bold falconers were rather surprised to find such an apparition in the village; for they seemed to have nothing to do with Batala, where of course my face is very familiar.
‘As I was returning in my little duli, I saw a bullock-cart in front, with a kind of red, dome-shaped vehicle on it, which of course contained some pardah-lady, perhaps a bride. I noticed that the curtain was drawn back. Probably the prisoned inmate of the red cage had caught sight of the duli, and was curious to see its occupant. As my kahars went faster than the bullocks, I passed the red cage, and a bright jewel-bedizened lady—smiling, as if amused at seeing a white woman—exchanged brief glances with me. I thought her a pretty creature. I wonder what she thought of the old lady who smiled at her.’
Taken at Amritsar about 1882
F. Jenkins Heliog Paris
The New Year begins with a line from Mrs. Wade to Mrs. Hamilton, in reference to the recent Conference:—
‘Amritsar, New Year’s Day, 1883.
‘I wish you could have seen dear Miss Tucker as President of our Lahore Ladies’ Conference. She did all so perfectly; one only feared her being over tired, but I think she is stronger than she was some months ago. We had the pleasure of her staying a night with us on her way; and her walking powers are wonderful! You will no doubt have a report of the Conference, and of her solemn and helpful words on John xiii., as it is to be printed in England.’
Although Mrs. Wade could speak of her ‘walking powers’ as ‘wonderful,’ Miss Tucker had at this period hardly the same unvarying good health as in earlier years. A few days later she was laid by with an attack of ‘shingles,’ with pain in the side. The Native doctor, called in, informed her that nothing was wrong with either lungs or heart,—the pain which troubled her being ‘simply from the nerves,’ which were ‘affected by the eruption.’ Miss Tucker assured him that she was not nervous. Upon which, as she relates, ‘the Hindu doctor smiled quietly, and gave me to understand that nerves are real things. He had not meant that I was fanciful. So the whole thing was simple enough,’ she philosophically adds. ‘To make a bull, I had a little toothache in my side.’ The attack gave way readily.