Still another caller, and he the Chaplain. Though he had been more than a year in the station, he had never called on us. We had never met until he appeared that morning, at our house. He introduced himself as the Chaplain. He need not have done this, as he had the padri marks all over him. He excused himself for not calling, on account of his many duties. Considerable of a lie for a padri to tell so early in the morning, I thought, for I had often seen him going to the club to idle away his time. After some thoughtless conversation he hemmed and hawed, as some men do when they are in a quandary, or destitute of ideas, but finally said, “Mr. Japhet, I have noticed for some time past that very few Eurasians come to church, and as you have great influence over them, I trust you will use it for their good, and get them to attend divine service.” I replied that I had no influence over them in that respect, that if the church could not draw them, I certainly could not, and would not drive them to it, even if I had the power to do so; that I always reserved my right to decide for myself in all religious matters, and conceded to everybody else the same privilege. He left this tack, and began praising the building, inquired its object, and then suggested, “You will soon have the opening, I suppose, and as the Lord Bishop will soon be here on a visitation, would it not be well to invite him to preside.” I saw through his scheme at once. It was to get his fingers into our pie, or in other words to make a grand affair of us for his own eclat, with pomp and procession by the help of the Lord Bishop. Certainly, I did not give him a hint of my thoughts, but replied that we did not know just when the building would be finished; that we had formed no plans about the opening. Others seemed to be suddenly afflicted with an intense desire to have the opening in good form. Among them my courteous caller, the Collector wrote, suggesting that the Commissioner be invited to preside on the occasion. I silently passed the note to my wife who viewed it for a few moments and then exclaimed, “The idea! Should he dare to preside after making such insulting remarks to you about the Eurasians, I would hiss, and every woman present would follow me. If you men have not spirit enough to stand up for your honor, and are too cowardly to resent insults, we will show you what we women can do,” and she would have done just as she said, for like a good and true wife she was very quick to resent anything that disparaged me. Then she laughed, one of those joyous inspiriting laughs, “Wouldn’t it be fun, though! Do it, Charles, do it; get him to preside, and I’ll give you a thousand rupees for a piano. It would be the best scene at the opening when all we women stand up and hiss until His Highness should retire.”