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If one were bold enough to generalise after the manner of Globe-Trotters, it would be easy to build up a theory on the well incident to account for the apparent insanity of some of our cold weather visitors. Even the Young Man from Manchester could evolve a complete idea for the training of well-bullocks in the East at thirty-seconds’ notice. How much the more could a cultivated observer from, let us say, an English constituency blunder and pervert and mangle! We in this country have no time to work out the notion, which is worthy of the consideration of some leisurely Teuton intellect.

Envy may have prompted a too bitter judgment of the Young Man from Manchester; for, as the train bore him from Jeypore to Ahmedabad, happy in “his getting home by Christmas,” pleased as a child with his Delhi atrocities, pink-cheeked, whiskered and superbly self-confident, the Englishman, whose home for the time was a dâk bungaloathesome hotel, watched his departure regretfully; for he knew exactly to what sort of genial, cheery British household, rich in untravelled kin, that Young Man was speeding. It is pleasant to play at globe-trotting; but to enter fully into the spirit of the piece, one must also be going home for Christmas.