[CHAPTER XVI.]
CALCUTTA.
Calcutta, India, Jan. 1, 1890.
WE arrived here yesterday, after a delightful trip from Madras, and at once went to our rooms at a first-class hotel, engaged some time ago. Mine happens to be a wooden barn-like structure built on the roof of a six-story building, which gives me a chance to look down upon the famous city of palaces and immense parks—a great show, particularly at night, when the streets are illuminated by gas and electricity.
We were told that Calcutta was a dreadfully hot place, but last night I had my overcoat on, and was very comfortable, the thermometer being seventy-two degrees.
I have just returned from a tramp about the city, and find it one of the finest I have seen—population one million; splendid government and other buildings, great parks, fine wide streets and sidewalks, and every appearance of advanced civilization.
The natives are a handsome race, dressed in their picturesque costumes. White and native soldiers in brilliant uniforms are to be met everywhere, and the whole scene is one of great beauty.
A royal prince is here to-day, the stores are shut, and a great review of soldiers is going on. The rush for rooms at the hotels is so great that I hear of a Major-General of the British army who is to sleep in a bathroom near us to-night. On the morning of the 2d instant we took a carriage drive around the city, starting at 10 A.M. and returning at 1.30.