After examining all the lines of troops drawn up for his inspection the Viceroy returns to the saluting point, and the Artillery let themselves go with ten rounds in the Imperial Salute followed with the much dreaded _feu-de-joie_, when so much dignity is often _nolens volens_ cast to the wind. On one of these birthday parades I remember seeing the horse of a big official unship its rider and then after various gallopings caused much confusion by playing tunes with its heels on a big drum against which it seemed to bear some grudge, when he had finished with it, it drummed no more, at any rate for the time being; but to continue with the orthodox proceedings. After this fusillade follows the National Anthem with all the massed bands playing together, then the Artillery have another innings, until thirty-one guns have done their best. In all probability the Viceroy knows little about troops, what they should look like, what they should do, or how many buttons make five on the men’s uniforms, but his Military Secretary will have primed him. Everybody says it is a horrid bore, but they enjoy it all the same. I must not forget one of the most important features in the day’s show, namely, the final cheers for the Empress of India and the march past. The cheering proves as trying to the horses generally as the _feu-de-joie_. We were trying to guess the number of people looking on, and asked Lord William what he considered would be somewhere near the figure, and he told us there were quite 100,000 on the Maidan, and it was not an unusual number on these occasions. The year 1886 brought several annoyances and disappointments to the Military Secretary in connection with his racing. In the first place Metal failed to win him the Viceroy’s Cup, which he had counted on; Mr. Gasper, who has been already introduced to the reader, beating him with Mercury. Coveting this horse his lordship made an offer for him to Mr. Gasper, resulting in the grey Australian changing his stable and his owner for the sum of 10,000 rupees, which was considered cheap. There was rather a tragic little episode at this meeting though it had nothing to do with Lord William. A smart little chestnut belonging to Mr. Abbott won The Trials in the shortest time on record and dropped dead immediately after passing the winning-post from rupture of the heart, poor little beast.