Driving past the imposing orange-colored palace of the viceroy, called the government house, which very much resembles our capitol at Washington, but is neither so large nor so elegant, we finally strike the Esplanade, where the Chowringhee road meets the Red road. We stop a few minutes at the Esplanade to take a look at the gay picture. The Esplanade is crowded with a surging mass of humanity, all going from the river bank to their homes in the Eastern part of the city. It is the sixth day of the new moon, and thousands of men, women and children have been down to the river, washed themselves in its waters, and offered sacrifices consisting of fruits and flowers. The women are dressed in white, red, yellow, green, blue or violet garments. The smallest children sit astride on the left hip of their mothers, the men carry large baskets of fruit, mostly bananas, on their heads for the river-god received only a small portion, and the rest is to be eaten at home. Here and there among the pedestrians is a well-to-do Hindoo who takes his family, consisting of two or three wives and a crowd of children, to the river in an ox-cart. There are hundreds of musicians and peddlers in the throng, and all are joyful and rejoicing. It must be observed that only people of the lower classes take part in such public demonstrations in company with women and children. Fashionable women would never walk beyond the gardens around their own houses and do not appear in company. Soon carriages are seen passing by in long rows, either down the Red road or to the right along the Esplanade toward the Strand. We follow the latter and arrive at the river bank where thousands of people are yet busy with their sacrifices or trading with peddlers for fancy goods and dainties, while others listen to the music from peculiarly constructed flutes and drums, which vie with each other in producing the most ear-rending discord. Elegantly covered carriages swarm in four lines up and down the road. Most of the occupants are Englishmen with their ladies; but you may also see quite a number of Hindoo princes or noblemen with their ladies in oriental costumes, or Parsee merchants in black silk coats and high caps. To the right there is a veritable forest of ship's masts extending along the beach for miles, and to the left some native soldiers are being drilled. We drive down and have a chat with the English officers and stop to see a game of polo played, the native cavalry contesting with their English officers, all displaying a wonderful skill. Every now and then a couple of young Englishmen or officers on horseback meet each other, and yonder are two half-naked Hindoos on a jog-trot carrying a load which looks like a big coffin, but which turns out to be a palanquin occupied by a passenger who, in an inclined position, smokes his cigar and takes as much comfort as he can get in that primitive mode of traveling. But see there! At a given sign