are such fools that the native lawyer for the
defence will not trust to them lest they should
be confused and commit themselves."

"But what do you think? Is the bond a
genuine document or not?"

"That is the very question. And when
there is no evidence to weigh, how are you to
act?"

"I suppose that in those cases you give
the prisoner the benefit of the doubt?" I
remarked.

"Not always. If I did that, I should
acquit almost every culprit that is brought
before me, and so would every judge throughout
the length and breadth of the land. By
the way, about a year ago, I sent a case to
the sessions judge—a case of murder. I
fancied there could be no doubt as to the
guilt of the accused; which was the opinion
of the sessions judge and of the Sudder Court
of Appeal. The man was hanged about six
weeks ago; and now I have discovered, beyond
all question, that he was hanged for the
offence of which his prosecutor was guilty!
It may be all very well for people in England
to rail at the administration of justice in this
country; but they would be less severe upon
some of us if they could only come out here
and see the material with which we have to
deal. The administration of justice may be,
I confess, very much reformed and improved,
but where the great bulk of the people are
corrupt, it can scarcely be in anything like a
perfect state." This statement, remember,
was made by a magistrate who speaks as
well as writes the native language as well as
the natives themselves. But conceive the
confusion and injustice of courts, the
magistrates of which solely depend on corrupt
moonshees for what they know of the
evidence.

There is but very little twilight in India;
and, by the time that we had returned from
our drive it was dark. Shortly afterwards,
dinner was announced. Dinner over,
we resumed our whist, and played until
midnight.

The following day was a native holiday—
a Hindoo holiday. What with Hindoo holidays
and Mahommedan holidays, nearly a
third of every year is wasted; for, upon these
days public business is suspended, and the
various offices closed. It is devoutly to be
hoped that, when our rule in India is
completely re-established, these absurd
concessions—these mere pretexts for idleness—will
no longer be suffered to prevail. It is only
the pampered native servants of the government,
civil and military, who are clamorous
for the observance of these "great days," as
they call them. Go into the fields or ride
through a bazaar on one of these holidays
and you will see the people at their work,
and the shopkeepers pursuing their respective
avocations. You pass the court-house, the
treasury, the magistrate's office, and observe
that they are all shut up. You ask the reason,
and are informed that it is a native holiday.
You go to an establishment founded and
conducted by private enterprise—a printing
office, for instance—and you observe Hindoos
of every caste, and Mussulmans also, at their
daily labour. Why? Because the head of
such an establishment stipulates that those
who wish for employ must work all the
year round, and they prefer employ on
such terms to no employ at all. So it is in
some mercantile firms in Calcutta, and at the
other presidencies; albeit such firms
experience very great inconvenience from the
circumstance of the government banks being
closed on these holidays; if a merchant
wishes to get a cheque cashed, or a bill
discounted, he must wait sometimes for days
together. Even the doors of the Queen's
courts are often closed, and the judges and
the council left unemployed, notwithstanding
that the litigants are British subjects; and
this because the native writers in these courts
and the officers attached to them, are paid by
the Company's government, which recognises
absence from duty on these holidays.

It would be hard to deprive either of the
great sects of certain holidays in every year.
The Doorgah-Poojah, for instance, or the
Mohurrum; but it is sheer folly, and profitless
withal, to sanction these constantly
repeated interruptions to public business.
The idlers of the covenanted civil service in
India are, naturally, in favour of closing the
doors of the various offices as often as
possible; but the hard-working portion, those
men who take some interest in the discharge
of the duties for which they draw their pay,
regard the native holidays as an intolerable
nuisance which ought, long since, to have
been abolished by the government.

Whilst we were enjoying ourselves after
dinner on the evening of the Hindoo holiday,
the khansamah came in, and announced that
two sahibs had arrived.

"Two sahibs?" said our host. "Who are
they?"

"They are strangers to me, sahib," said
the khansamah, "and they do not speak
Hindoostanee; but their bearers say that they
are Lord sahibs."

"Who, on earth, can they be ?" said the
magistrate of Bijnore (loudly) to himself; and,
rising, he left the table to make inquiry in
person, and offer the travellers every
hospitality.

"O, I beg your pardon," said a voice
from one of the palanquins. "But would
you be good enough to tell me where I
am?"

"You are at Bijnore," said the magistrate,
blandly.

"Bij-what?"

"Bijnore."

"Then, how far am I from Meerut?"

"A very considerable distance—forty miles
at least."

"How the deuce is that?"