We also saw the juggling of an Indian humorist with two attendants, who, if they did not realise all the wonders we have read about Indian conjurers, did at least perform miracles with the English language and the linked sweetness of music too long drawn out. The attendants sat on the ground and beat monotonous drums, what time the conjurer walked to and fro and played a peculiarly baneful type of Indian bagpipe. "Ram, ram, ram, ram, kurte heren ugh!" sang the conjurer. "Ugh! ugh! ugh! ugh!" sang the chorus, rolling their eyes and swaying their shoulders. "Baen, deina, juldee, chup, chup!" droned the conjurer. "Chup, chup, chup, chup," wailed the chorus. "Hum mugurer hue! hum padre hue! hum booker se mur jata hue!" cried the conjurer. "Hue! hue! hue! hue!" replied the chorus. Then, "one, two, three, four, five, nine, sumting, fifteen, twenty," cried the conjurer, fumbling with his conjuring gear; "see dere, dere de egg; Lonndonn chicken egg, chicken egg, chicken egg." "Chicken egg, chicken egg," repeated the chorus in triumphant tones; and banged the mournful drums. By weird Hindu enchantment, they beguiled Captandem to the platform to assist, and having got him there, proceeded to make him wish he wasn't. "Lonndonn Charlee," cried the conjurer, triumphantly introducing him; "Lonndonn Charlee, Lonndonn Charlee, say now uchmeechulouchuadmee," and grinned like a heathen. "Uchmeechulouchuadmee," wailed the chorus. "Uchmee--uchmee--oh! I can't say it," cried poor London Charlie, and the chorus, showing all its flashing teeth, victoriously droned a mocking "Bu-u-uh!" which obviously completed London Charlie's discomfiture and distress. "Lennee me Lonndonn sixpence, Lonndonn Charlee," cried the conjurer; and the youthful Captandem, after much inward searching, produced the coin demanded. The conjurer took it in his hand, placed it under a flower-pot, and said: "Ulla ulla juldeechupalee"; and the chorus shouted, "Chupalee." Then followed two or three more experiments and practical jokes on London Charlie's confiding innocence, till at last London Charlie, unwilling to bear any more ridicule, leaped from the platform and desperately fled the scene--looking as unlike the cocksure London Charlie that went up, as doth the tin-kettled feline maniac which has fallen amongst felonious boys, to the smug and purring pet of the ancient spinster's fireside. Poor little London Charlie. It was not till long afterwards that he remembered his sixpence. Poor Captandem! * * * * * Still he enjoyed himself, and, if the truth must be told, there are moments when even I am less amused by the mummies and fossils of the museums than by the lights, the fountains, the colour, and the movement of Earl's Court.