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Swinburne, T. R.

"A Holiday in the Happy Valley with Pen and Pencil"

Ye gods! What a cold drive it
was, and how bitterly we regretted that we had not brought our wraps from
their bundle.
I was fearfully afraid that Jane would get a chill--an evil always to be
specially guarded against in a tropical climate, but a very hot tub and a
good breakfast averted all calamity, and we set forth in a funny little
trap to inspect Lahore.
This is the first large and thoroughly Indian city that we have
seen--Karachi being merely a thriving modern seaport and garrison
town--and we set to work to see what we could in the limited time at our
disposal. We whisked along a road--bumpy withal in parts, and somewhat
dusty, but broad. On either hand rose substantial stone mansions, half
hidden by trees and flowering shrubs. Many of these fine-looking buildings
were shops. I was impressed by their importance, for they were quite what
would be described by an auctioneer or agent as "most desirable family
mansions, approached by a carriage drive ... standing within their own
beautifully wooded and secluded grounds in an excellent residential
neighbourhood," &c. &c.
Anon we whirled round a corner, and plunged into the seething life of the
native city. The road was crammed with an apparently impenetrable crowd of
men and beasts, the latter--water-buffaloes, humpy cattle, and
donkeys--strolling about and getting in everybody's way with perfect
nonchalance, while men in strange raiment of gaudy hue pursued their
lawful occupations with much clamour.


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