In the first place, the grand salon, or salle à manger, contained one square camp-table, two chairs and a half, a footstool of basket work, in the shape of a devil (the thing played with two sticks, I mean); his hog-spear and gun occupied one corner, and hard by hung suspended his library; not quite so large as the Bodleian, to be sure, but containing, nevertheless, some very good cut-and-come-again sort of books.
First, there was a family Gibbon, properly docked and curtailed, a present from his grandmother; Gilchrist’s Grammar; Williamson’s Vade Mecum, and Taplin’s Farriery; the Tota Kuhanee,[[22]] Mother Glass’s Cookery, and a ponderous tome, which I at first took for a Family Bible with explanatory notes, but which turned out to be an abridgment of the rules and regulations of the Bengal army, monuments of the legislative skill of all the commanders-in-chief and governors-general from the time of Clive downwards.
Tom’s dormitory was still more scantily furnished: it contained a small camp-cot, on which, much at its ease, reposed a terrier bunnow—own brother to Teazer, I could have sworn—a chair, a washhand stand, or chillumchee, a cracked looking-glass, two camel trunks, and as many pataras; whilst on a peg hung what he sometimes jocularly termed his badges of slavery—to wit, a sword, a sash, and shoulder-belt.
The third apartment in the bungalow, small and bare, was assigned to me, and Rattleton good-naturedly sent a servant off to the fort to bring up the things I had left there in a paunchway.
After showing me the interior, we proceeded to the shady side of the bungalow, where, on a terrace, stood a chair, a teapoy, a small carpet, and other preparations for my friend’s second toilet. After parade or the morning’s ride, it is the invariable custom to dress again, an operation which, in the hot seasons, is repeated sometimes two or three times in the course of the day.
We should be rather surprised to see gentlemen in England sitting al fresco on the lawns, barring a short pair of drawers, as naked as gladiators; but, as I said before, the sun makes a very considerable difference in our perceptions of things in general.
Prior to dressing, it is usual to take a bath, which is effected by the bhistee’s (water-carrier’s) sluicing over you the frigid contents of a mussack, or tanned sheepskin bag. This braces the whole system, and adds a fresh edge to the appetite, already sharpened by the ride in the morning air. Breakfast is, consequently, attacked with a degree of vigour and determination not often seen even in our hyperborean clime.
After a comfortable meal, and disposing of a vast quantity of fish, rice, and muffins, Rattleton cocked his legs on the table, bade me do the same, and make myself quite at home. The pipeman brought the hookha, and the bearer pulled the punka, and we proceeded to discuss a plan of proceeding for the morning.
“In the first place, we must call on the colonel this morning,” said Rattleton; “he is a very good sort of man, takes matters easily, and patronizes me especially, but is rather tenacious of having proper respect paid to him; then, after that, I’ll introduce you to the general, and some of the other officers of the corps and station, and in the evening we’ll drive you out in the park, where you’ll see all the beauty and fashion of Barrackpore. By the way, Frank, there are some devilish nice spins just now here, which, perhaps, you’ll not be sorry to hear.”
“Certainly not,” I replied; “but I hope, Tom, you’re not thinking of committing matrimony just yet, are you?”