Our boys in India . alkedabout as fast as the buggy was drawn through the bazaar. What makes every one walk in the middle of the street ?asked Scott. Because there is nothing but middle, replied Richard. Scott had not thought of it before ; but, when he looked,there was absolutely no sign of a sidewalk anywhere. They must get their shoes all dirt, he observed, andhave pretty-looking carpets to pay for it. In the first place, they dont have carpets, as a generalthing, not even the rich fellows, said Richard; and, carpetsor no carpets, they never wear shoes into the house, any morethan we wear o
Our boys in India . alkedabout as fast as the buggy was drawn through the bazaar. What makes every one walk in the middle of the street ?asked Scott. Because there is nothing but middle, replied Richard. Scott had not thought of it before ; but, when he looked,there was absolutely no sign of a sidewalk anywhere. They must get their shoes all dirt, he observed, andhave pretty-looking carpets to pay for it. In the first place, they dont have carpets, as a generalthing, not even the rich fellows, said Richard; and, carpetsor no carpets, they never wear shoes into the house, any morethan we wear our hats. But what an absurd idea to take off ones shoes! ex-claimed Scott. I dont know about that, Scott: they say, what an absurdidea to take off the hat, instead! for they say their shoestouch the ground, and are defiled, and will defile their friends*houses ; but their hats do no harm on their heads. A hostof things are right or wrong in this world, just according towho do them, and who judge them. i mm,! fife nt. / ;• V f ^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. I believe you are right, Mr. Raymond, said Scott. But tell me some more about these fellows, and what theydo. It is a deal more interesting than ever before, now thatI am looking right at them. The best way to tell you will be to show you, saidRichard. And the best time to show you is right awaynow, for we dont know where we may be by to-morrow. How are you going to show me ? asked Scott, asRichard gave an order to the coachman. I am going to take you to call on an old friend ofmine, — Esofali Hiptulabhoy. O Caesars ghost ! what a name ! groaned Scott, ashe sank back in the buggy. What sort of a man is he ? He is a high official, and a very good fellow. He is a heathen, of course, to have such a name,muttered Scott. Yes, he is a heathen, said Richard, but in such a voice,that Scott instantly looked up, and realized that he had hurthis friends feelings. I was only joking, Mr. Raymond, he hastened to add. Thats all right, replied Ri
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