ABSTRACT
I am kindly advised, before starting on my overland journey through India, of the wants I shall find by the way. In addition to the railway ticket, I have to purchase a pillow, a towel, and some soap; the pillow is to go as a head-rest, at the end of the stuffed leathern carriage seat which will be my sleeping sofa for the night; the soap and towel are for use in the little closet adjoining the carriage. The pace of the train is slow, and the country is flat, and looks hot and uninteresting to those who have only eyes for scenery. Among the indigo and the poppies are now and again seen the heads of the natives, and here and there an occasional hill breaks the dead level of the far-stretching plain. The villages on the line of road are merely collections of mud-hovels, but one degree better than those seen on the banks of the Nile. The labourers are, I fear, but little better off, to judge by the wretched appearance of their dwellings. Those who in Egypt are called “fellahs,” are here “ryots.”
