Being a kind-hearted man, Lord Bill did his best to further everybody’s wishes, and if they were in any way possible presented the matter to His Excellency for consideration. Occasionally some Native Chief thought he ought to have some concessions, decorations or invitations, and asked Lord William to help him in the matter, once when this had occurred and the answer was longer coming than the Chief liked, he thought he would expedite matters by making a handsome present to his lordship and at the same time asking when his request was going to be granted. This, of course, settled the matter, as it was undoubtedly meant as a bribe and was reported at once to the Viceroy--needless to say the favour was not granted. It seems rather hard that while we, the British people, give presents to the Chiefs, we are not allowed to receive any in return, that is to say none of any value; but no doubt it is wise. New Year’s Day is a great holiday in India, the birthday, so to speak, of the Queen-Empress, January 1st being the anniversary of the Delhi Durbar when she was declared Empress of India. There are endless big parades all over India in honour of this occasion. At Calcutta there is always a most imposing military parade which everybody turns out to witness, putting on their best bibs and tuckers, as their share in its impressiveness. It is a busy and anxious day for the Military Secretary, for in addition to all his other work he is wondering whether after all his training, the Viceroy’s charger will behave properly when the dreaded moment arrives for the firing of the _feu-de-joie_. The horses under his care may have been properly broken--the horses belonging to other people may not, and when the show begins if one horse begins playing the fool in all probability others will follow suit. There is a vast amount of ceremony attached to these parades. The Viceroy puts on all his war paint, throws out his chest, and rides down the lines of troops drawn up for his inspection, followed by his glittering staff, everybody feels it behoves them to polish buttons and do an extra brush up, even the Vice-reine’s coachman indulges in an extra shave and endures the middle button of his coat buttoned up, just until the ceremony is over. Nobody takes the least notice of all these efforts to be extra smart; but perhaps it would be noticed if they did not, and nobody would perceive it more quickly than the Military Secretary.