"The cotton-growing business in India owes a good deal to this garden, as it has helped the distribution of the plants, and made a great many experiments to learn the variety of cotton-tree best adapted to any particular soil. Most of the Indian cotton is grown on a bush, as in the United States, and has to be renewed every year from the seed; but there is one variety that takes the form of a tree, and grows two or three years. It has numerous branches, and when the pods are opened, and the white cotton is hanging out, the appearance of the tree is very pretty. Some of these trees produce a cotton with a yellowish hue, while others are snowy white. It is no wonder that people say 'white as cotton' when they want to make a comparison, as there is nothing of a purer white than the contents of a cotton boll when it is first opened.
"We came back from the garden by the river road, and crossed the bridge to Calcutta once more. Then we went to see Dalhousie Square, or Tank Square, as it was formerly called, and have a stroll around its borders. It is right in the middle of the city, and appears to be twenty or twenty-five acres in extent; there is a fence all the way around it, and the banks are nicely sodded and covered with grass. You will wonder when we say that there is a great reservoir in the centre fed entirely by springs at the bottom, and the supply is so great that it never goes dry. The fact is, the whole city of Calcutta rests on a bed of quicksand, through which the water from the Ganges finds its way with the greatest ease. The tank was originally dug to supply the inhabitants with water, and they had only to go a few feet below the level of the river to find the water coming through the sand and bubbling up perfectly pure. The sand cleansed it from all impurities, and it has always been regarded as the sweetest water in the city.
"When we reached the north-west corner of Tank Square our guide indicated a spot where there was once an obelisk to the memory of the men who perished in the famous Black Hole: the Black Hole was a room in a building close by here, but both building and obelisk have disappeared. You remember the story: On the capture of Calcutta by Surajah Dowlah, in 1746, 146 Englishmen were forced into a room only eighteen feet square, with two small windows on the western side, and left there till morning. The night was hot and damp, and there was no wind blowing, and in the morning only twenty-three of all the number were alive. Several of these never recovered—thirst and foul air caused the most terrible sufferings, ending in death, and the name of Black Hole is frequently applied to a place that is badly ventilated.
BENGALESE WATER-CARRIERS.
"The native water-carriers are a curiosity; they supply houses that are without running water, and are employed to sprinkle the streets when the dust is likely to rise. Their equipment is very simple, as it consists of the skin of a pig or goat—generally of a pig, as it will hold water better than the other. The skin is carefully sewed up, with the exception of the neck, which is left open to receive the water; you frequently see these men going around with their burdens, and the price they get for bringing water is so small that they must be very diligent to earn twenty-five cents a day.
"They have a bird here of the buzzard species which is of great assistance in cleaning the streets; he is called 'the adjutant' by the English residents, and, as nobody thinks of doing him any harm, he walks about fearlessly, and sometimes you see him in the very middle of a crowd of natives. A gentleman tells us that when these birds become troublesome around the barracks of the soldiers, several tricks are played upon them. The soldiers will take a couple of bones and tie them together with six or eight feet of strong cord; the bones are then flung to a couple of adjutants, and each manages to swallow one. When the birds find themselves united they rise in the air and endeavor to fly, and their efforts to separate themselves are very amusing to the soldiers. Finding they cannot do it, they come to the ground again, and somebody cuts the string and releases them.
"When the adjutant has eaten something, he mounts to the top of a post or some other elevated spot, crosses his legs, and becomes motionless while his food is digesting. The soldiers take advantage of this habit by digging the marrow from a beef-bone, and inserting a cartridge in the hollow thus formed. Over the cartridge they put a piece of lighted punk or tinder, and then a cork, and when all is ready they throw the bone to an adjutant who is just finishing his dinner. Finding there is nothing more to eat, the bird mounts a post, and goes to sleep in his usual way; in a little while the fire reaches the cartridge and an explosion follows, resulting in the instant death of the unfortunate bird. Of late years this amusement has been forbidden, greatly to the credit of the officers commanding the garrisoned places.
"We have kept our eyes open to see the native ladies of Calcutta, but have not been very fortunate. Nineteen-twentieths of the natives on the streets are men, and the few women that come out so that we can look at them are of the poorer classes. We have seen some rich ladies riding in carriages, and now and then we encounter a cart drawn by a pair of bullocks, and moving at a dignified pace with a native lady seated inside. The canopy above her head partially conceals her from view, and then we do not think it exactly polite to look at her more than a few seconds at a time. These are probably the wives of wealthy merchants; they spend most of their time at home, and only come out for a ride on very fine days, or to visit the shops where handsome things are for sale. Their garments are generally white, and there does not appear to be any change of fashions among them more than among the men.