On being informed of the trouble, the General, who was a little farther up the street, immediately repaired to the spot, speaking conciliatory words to the crowd as he made his way to the third floor and entered the room. Here he selected the oldest member of the family and "very courteously" discussed with him the necessity for the removal of the youth to hospital. In the meantime the new hand ambulance (which was a litter on a pair of bicycle wheels, worked out on an idea of the General's) reached the door; but the sight of it upset the parents so much that they withdrew their reluctant consent to Haji's removal. Recollecting that he was dealing with a wealthy family, the General suggested that they should send for one of their own carriages. Impervious to any notions of infection, but highly conscious of their local standing, the family readily consented to this compromise. Having won his point, the General made his way down to the street, where the crowd was now very dense: he whispered to a native inspector, slipping a few rupees into his {173} hand. In a few minutes there was a vast scramble for sweets which were flying in every direction; under cover of this bombardment the patient was successfully carried off in an English brougham drawn by richly caparisoned white horses.[5] [5] Recollections furnished by Mr. Louis Godniho, Deputy Officer; see also _Advocate of India_, April 3, 1897. [Sidenote: The Seedee king] On another occasion the quarter known as Kazipura was selected for the morning's search work. Kazipura is inhabited by all classes of Mahommedans, including the African Negroes or Seedees. On the arrival of the brake the party broke up and entered various dwellings. One party, consisting of two members of the Committee and Dr. Sorab Hormusjee (to whom I am indebted for this story, and who held the appointment of Lady Assistant to the Health Officer), came across a Seedee boy aged eighteen years, whom they declared to be suffering from the plague. The mother denied this, saying her son was only tired, having been dancing all night, and, supported by some male relatives, angrily asserted that she would not allow his removal. [Illustration: House-to=house visitation.] Within a few minutes the streets and alleys were swarming with Seedees armed with sticks, and a serious riot seemed inevitable. But fortunately the Chairman was on the spot; he instructed Mr. Vincent, the Police Commissioner, to send for the Seedee King Makanda. The arrival of the Great Man and his Queen Sophie had a magic effect; a few words of explanation {174} from the Chairman, a few words from the King to the sick man's mother, won the day for the cause of law and order. The third story that I have selected is told by Miss Remy, a nursing sister of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. As her contribution describes the horrible dens that were daily visited I give her recollections in her own words: