Talking of them reminds me of an amusing incident which happened in connection with them. They were Nagas belonging to one of our villages which lay at the back of the Residency grounds, between us and the river. The Nagas never burden themselves with too many clothes, and these in particular wore little beside a necklace or two. I mentioned this fact to a spinster lady friend of mine on one occasion, and she was so horrified that she sent me shortly afterwards nine pairs of bathing-drawers to be given to them. They were very beautiful garments; some had red and white stripes, and some blue, and they were all very clean. I presented them gravely one morning to my nine Malis, and a few days after I went into the garden in the evening and found two of the men at work. One had made a hole in his bathing apparatus and had put his head through it, while his arms went into the places for the legs, and he was wearing it with great pride as a jacket; and the other had arranged his with an eye for the artistic on his head as a turban. After this I gave up trying to inculcate decency into the mind of the untutored savage. We had a good many Naga servants. My second Khitmutghar[4] was a Naga, and a very excellent servant he was too, except when he was drunk, which I am sorry to say was very often. If we were going into camp, or if we had just returned, were the particular occasions which, in his mind, were the ones of all others to be celebrated with much spirituous fluid. A message would come from the village to say that Mecandaï (the gentleman in question) was very dangerously ill—in fact, that he was not expected to live through the day. At first my sympathies were all aroused in his cause, but after a little experience I discovered the nature of his illness, and had him conveyed to the house. The native doctor was then sent for, and if he said the man was ill he was put into the hospital; if not, he went under military escort to the quarter-guard.