“How is it, Tom,” said I, “that the European officers, who have shared in the same dangers, and who have fought in the same fields, exiles from home and kindred, and grilling under your fiery sun here, are not also honoured with medals for remarkable services?”[31] “Upon my life, Frank, I can’t tell you; it is one of those profound mysteries which it does not become unassisted reason to probe too closely: there must be some latent policy in it, though it is far beyond the ken of ordinary mortals. My old native officer, Subadar Davy Persaud, one day, in my presence, asked your friend Captain Marpeet, when lounging at my bungalow, what was the reason of it? ‘We are puzzled, Sahib,’ said he, ‘to make it out; they are either of no value, and given to us, as baubles are to the _Baba Logue_ (children), or else you gentlemen, who led us on, and shared in our dangers and hardships, are very ill-treated by the Kumpany Ungruis Bahadour, in not being allowed to share in the distinction, which we should prize much more if our officers did share it.’” “That seems like a poser,” said I. “It does,” replied Tom; “’tis plausible; but it just shows into what errors mere unassisted reason may lead us.” “But what said Marpeet to it? he is a right loyal man, and always sticks up for the ‘Honourable John.’” “Why,” said Tom, “Captain Marpeet, being a bit of a logician, proved syllogistically to old Davy Persaud that all was as it should be, thus: ‘It was well known,’ said he, ‘and an established fact, that the Honourable Company are liberal, generous and considerate masters; that they don’t do illiberal, impolitic, and inconsiderate things—_ergo_,’ and there Marpeet brought his conclusions to bear in high style, and regularly demolished David Persaud’s position; ‘_ergo_, this must be all right, though appearances are the other way.’ Your friend, however, confessed to me afterwards, that when at home he should have been glad could he have sported a bit of ribbon at his button hole, or something of the sort, just to show that he had frozen patriotically on the mountains of Nepaul, and struck a blow for old England at Laswarrie and Putpergunge.” I was much surprised, and not a little amused, to observe that each native officer was accompanied by an attendant, generally some simple looking Coolie youth, carrying his chair, and odd three-cornered pieces of furniture some of them were. “Tom,” said I, _sotto voce_, “there seems to be no want of chairmen at your meeting; but, seriously, tell me, is it usual for the native officers to carry about their chairs in this sort of way?” My friend answered that it generally was, and that not only native, but European officers did the like, subalterns’ bungalows not being usually overstocked with furniture. “The possession of a chair, by the way, and the right to sit in it in the presence of his European officer,” added he, “are prerogatives on which the subadur or jemadar sets a high value.”