"Ugh!" she shuddered, turning another way, "I don't care for your
cobras, Hope, and everybody knows that bungalows aren't to be found in
city streets. But as for the coolies and palanquins, of course--"
"You have them both!" laughed the captain, pointing down the narrower
street into which they had just entered.
All laughed with him, while the black bearers trotted by, as suddenly,
from between the curtains of this box-like carriage, out popped a
tennis cap, while a well-known voice shouted a boyish "Hello!" as a
hand was waved in greeting.
"It's Dwight--Hello! Hello!" Hope shouted back, waving her white
parasol vigorously. "Isn't he the greatest boy?"
"I wonder if he'll turn up on that bullock cart, too. He seems
omnipresent!" laughed the captain, as they whirled by. "When are they
off for Poonah?"
"I suppose to-day, but perhaps not till night," returned Faith.
"Did you ever see anything like that? If you call this Englishy, Hope."
"No, I don't. Things are beginning to look quite Indiany, since we
left those fine new streets, I confess."
They were now slowly threading their way among the teeming crowds of a
narrow place where it seemed as if the odd-looking houses upon each
side had emptied all their occupants out before their doors. Men but
half-clothed spread out their wares, or plied their trades, in full
view of all, and children with no clothes at all paddled their bare
black feet in the gutters, or sat cross-legged, rolling marbles over
the paving stones.
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