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Among the Railway Folk Introduction |
A Railway Settlement The Shops Vulcan's Forge |
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Notes edited by David Page. In preparing these notes, the present Editor has drawn where appropriate on those of the ORG. |
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. . . In my absence, in Rajputana, [November and December 1887 with results that appeared as Letters of Marque] the Pioneer had started a new weekly paper and I, as the author of Plain Tales from the Hills was advertised as the writer of a series of "Anglo Indian Studies". On my return to Allahabad—the place where the Pioneer is printed—I had to turn to and hatch out stories; for they had told me nothing of this new departure. One of my proprietors made me welcome for a month and I worked like a nigger, because I love him, and would do anything for him and went to all the dances and dinners that were going for thirty days. Then they cut me adrift afresh, bidding me chuse my own ground for exploration. I have taken the 19th century and the Railway colonies in India, and the opium factories and the out of the way life of Calcutta, and Benares, and a relic of the Mutiny for my subjects and am come here to Jamalpur, which is a sort of Crewe of Eastern India, where men make locomotives and control many hundreds of miles of lines.
Jan. 26th
Been out on business all day in soft warm drenching rain and return to you now, having competely lost the thread of my egoistical argument. Where was I? At Jamalpur. It's a wonderful place and I see that I shall have my work cut out to describe it. I've got my first harvest of notes and have been writing out for three hours continuous. . .
Jan. 27th
Be shot if it is. The blot has runned away all down the page and I'll get you another as soon as ever I get to Calcutta if I live. I've had a riotous day cutting about over the "shops" and inspecting 120 diseased locos, a quarter of a million of pound's worth of stock and goodness knows what all. It's all down in a notebook somewhere but I'm too dead fagged to write it out (and there is an "interesting" tale for the week after next to be written) and so I fly to you for consolation. Tomorrow I go to a big meeting of the local Masonic Lodge. Curious thing to think that though I've come south 980 miles I am certain tomorrow of finding men who will talk to me as though they had known me all their lives on subjects on which both I and they will be able to discourse about with freedom and camaraderie. Let us hope they'll give me some decent material for Studies. I'm in low water again. . .
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