"And off they started in a jog-trot, which must have shaken every bone in his reverence's body, keeping chorus all the time of 'Jump along quickly,' until they were obliged to stop for laughing. "They invariably (continues Lola) suit these extempore chants to the weight and character of their burden. I remember to have been exceedingly amused one day at the merry chant of my human horses as they started off on the run. "'She's not heavy, Cabbada [take care]! Little baba [missie], Cabbada! Carry her swiftly, Cabbada! Pretty baba, Cabbada!' "And so they went on, singing and extemporising for the whole hour and a half's journey. It is quite a common custom to give them four annas (or English sixpence) apiece at the end of every stage, when fresh horses [_sic_] are put under the burden; but a gentleman of my acquaintance, who had been carried too slowly, as he thought, only gave them two annas apiece. The consequence was that during the next stage the men not only went faster, but they made him laugh with their characteristic song, the whole burden of which was: 'He has only given them two annas, because they went slowly; let us make haste, and get along quickly, and then we shall get eight annas, and have a good supper.'" The burden of the European's life in India at this period is voiced in "Marois'" poem, _The Long, Long, Indian Day_. It was the empire of _ennui_. A strongly puritanical tone, too, was observable in certain influential circles, and the clergy frequently discountenanced and condemned the poor efforts at relaxation made by officers and their wives. Dances and amateur theatricals were often the subject of censure from the pulpit. So the men fell back on brandy pawnee, loo, and tiger-shooting. The women were worse off. To the Honourable Emily Eden we are indebted for some vivid pictures of Anglo-Indian society during the viceroyalty of her brother, Lord Auckland (1836-1842). They enable us to realise Lola's emotions and manner of life during her second visit to India. Miss Eden's compassionate interest was excited by "a number of young ladies just come out by the last ships, looking so fresh and English, and longing to amuse themselves--and it must be such a bore at that age to be shut up for twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four; and the one hour that they are out is only an airing just where the roads are watered. They have no gardens, no villages, no poor people, no schools, no poultry to look after--none of the occupations of young people. Very few of them are at ease with their parents; and, in short, it is a melancholy sight to see a new young arrival." Another passage runs:--