Here we met an old Sikh acquaintance of the road, who informed me
that he had taken service under the Maharajah. Next day he paid us
a visit, by appointment, and expressed himself highly delighted with
his entertainment; smoking and drinking, however, not being lawful in
society to the Sikhs, we could do but little in the character of hosts,
beyond letting him talk away to his heart's content, and with as little
interruption as possible. He told us his entire life and history,
in the worst of English, and we affected to understand the whole of
the narration, which, perhaps, was as much as any host could have
been called upon to do under the circumstances. The old gentleman's
dress was extremely gorgeous, and contrasted rather strongly with
our own woollen shooting-jackets and general exterior. He wore
a turban of purest white, entwined in endless folds round a light
green skull-cap; his waistcoat was of green velvet, embroidered,
and richly bordered with gold. His pyjamas -- striped silk of the
brightest hue -- fitted his little legs as tightly as needle and
thread could make them, and his lady-like feet were encased in cotton
socks and gold embroidered slippers.
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