fun. The governor-general is of course a
standing joke, and so is the commander-in-chief.
Such profanity must be expected in a periodical
inspired to so large a degree as the Delhi Sketch
Book by the subaltern mind, civil or military.
But I am bound to admit that both Lord Dalhousie
and Sir Charles Napier are treated with
all due respect, and that, although held up to
nature in a humorous mirror, there is no attempt
to insult them or bring them into contempt.
The references to Sir William Gomm, Sir
Charles Napier's successor, are not always so
courteous.

The first sketch which catches the eye is
entitled "Ye Manners and Customs of ye
English Officers in Pegu." It occupies the whole
page, and represents a ball at which there are
no ladies present: their places being supplied
by men, who are dancing away with one another
on a toe which appears something more
than light and fantastic. Two young officers
who have been waltzing together have come
down upon the big drum, under which the
player is seen gasping for life. Other couples
are reeling about, and it is evident that the
mirth is of no methodistical character. Accompanying
the illustration, is a descriptive
letter, the writer of which, tempted apparently
by the alliterative coincidence of " Polka" and
"Pegu," has written his letter, with the exception
of an occasional conjunction, in words
beginning with the letter p. Thus he tells
the editor that he is " perpetually putting
polka parties into his periodical, and plaguing
the poor Peguans with pictures of pretty girls
pirouetting under punkahs, with precocious
partners,"— insomuch that the Peguans are
"pained and piqued to perceive that they cannot
participate in the partiality which they prognosticate
is purchased at their expense,"— and so
on through the greater part of a page; the editor
bringing the joke to a conclusion by remarking
that " his valued correspondent must be a member
of the p's society." After this exhibition
of cheerfulness, we are treated to a couple of
pages of rather elaborate mystification, supposed
to be put forth by a senior captain for the benefit
of a cadet, or griffin, just arrived from England.
The captain tries to frighten the griff with
horrible stories of the country, and to lead him
into scrapes such as were experienced by our
young friend Peter Simple under similar circumstances.
This is a favourite theme, and may be
found illustrated passim. Overlooking several
subjects of an incomprehensibly local character

—to the English reader—I come to a large
"page cut" of " An Indian Interior — the
Subaltern's Quarters." This is very well depicted,
and a great deal too true to life to represent
a scene of great elegance or refinement.
The apartment has the plain and evidently
whitewashed walls common to bungalows in
the mofussil. The only relief from their monotony
are— first, a bookcase containing a very
small allowance of books and a very large
allowance of cheroot-boxes, racquet-bats, and
other materials for unintellectual amusement;
second, a pair of buck's-horns displayed in true
sporting style, with a hunting-whip resting
upon them; third, some movable pegs for
hats; fourth, a shaving glass; fifth, a line
on which are hung cravats in tempting variety;
sixth, a pair of horse-pistols, surmounted
by a pair of spurs; seventh, a travelling-bag
and a forage-cap. Against the wall stand
a couple of wild boar spears, a cricket-bat, a
sword, a row of boots, and — apparently quite a
matter of detail — there is a bed in one corner.
In the middle of the room, seated at a rough
camp table are the proprietor of the apartment
and a friend who is apparently passing the
morning with him. Both are half undressed
and in a state of intense négligé, both are
smoking, and both are playing at cards, notwithstanding
that one has his feet upon the
table. Above their heads the punkah is being
swung with great motion; and the window,
opening to the ground, is occupied by a khus-khus
tattie— that is to say, a screen of a peculiar
scented grass, watered assiduously from without,
by which means the hot wind is made cool before
it can reach the interior. In the vacant recess
of the window, exposed to the full current of air,
are some bottles of soda-water, and other bottles
evidently containing some stronger liquid, with
one of which, or a probable combination of the
two, one of the youths is already refreshing himself.
Under the table is crouched a bull-dog
of hideous aspect — an animal which is the
usual companion of the British subaltern in
India, according to the authority of caricatures.
In a drawing further on, in which we
are favoured with another representation of a
subaltern's quarters, a dozen dogs at least are
represented as making a ferocious attack upon the
sub's commanding officer, who has come to pay
a visit of ceremony, and whom the sub receives
lying on his bed, in a state of undress as usual,
smoking a cheroot and reading a newspaper.

The junior ensign or griff, is a great character
all through the volume, where he serves
as a representative of the rising generation, and
is continually astonishing the weak minds of
senior officers of the old school by the audacity
of his ideas and his vigorous views of life.
We see him at a mess, or rather in the ante-room
where that sherry is discussed which relieves
waiting for dinner of half its horrors.
He has the decanter in his hand, and addresses
one of the senior captains of the regiment.
The contrast between the slim figure
of the youth, displayed by the shell-jacket, and
the more full proportions of Captain Bumptious,
also displayed by the shell-jacket, and reinforced
by abundant whiskers, adds not a little
to the effect:

"I say, Bumptious, is this to be a public
night?"

Bumptious replies that he is not sure, but
supposes so; to which the ensign rejoins:

"Well, only let's know before the lushing
begins."

But the griff sometimes appears in a different
light, and bewilders his seniors, not only by his