Next morning there is a jackal hunt, or cricket, or pony races, or shooting matches, or sport of some kind, while the rent collection still goes on.  In the afternoon we have grand wrestling matches amongst the natives for small prizes, and generally witness some fine exhibitions of athletic skill and endurance.

Some wandering juggler may have been attracted by the rumour of the gathering.  A tight-rope dancer, a snake charmer, an itinerant showman with a performing goat, monkey, or dancing bear, may make his appearance before the admiring crowd.

At times a party of mimes or actors come round, and a rare treat is not seldom afforded by the bara roopees. Bara means twelve, and roop is an impersonation, a character.  These ‘twelve characters’ make up in all sorts of disguises.  Their wardrobe is very limited, yet the number of people they personate, and their genuine acting talent would astonish you.  With a projecting tooth and a few streaks of clay, they make up a withered, trembling old hag, afflicted with palsy, rheumatism, and a hacking cough.  They make friends with your bearer, and an old hat and coat transforms them into a planter, a missionary, or an officer.  They whiten their faces, using false hair and moustache, and while you are chatting with your neighbour, a strange sahib suddenly and mysteriously seats himself by your side.  You stare, and look at your host, who is generally in the secret, but a stranger, or new comer, is often completely taken in.  It is generally at night that they go through their personations, and when they have dressed for their part, they generally choose a moment when your attention is attracted by a cunning diversion.  On looking up you are astounded to find some utter stranger standing behind your chair, or stalking solemnly round the room.

They personate a woman, a white lady, a sepoy policeman, almost any character.  Some are especially good at mimicking the Bengalee Baboo, or the merchant from Cabool or Afghanistan with his fruits and cloths.  A favourite roop with them is to paint one half of the face like a man.  Everything is complete down to moustache, the folds of the puggree, the lathee or staff, indeed to the slightest detail.  You would fancy you saw a stalwart, strapping Hindoo before you.  He turns round, and lo, a bashful maiden.  Her eyes are stained with henna (myrtle juice) or antimony.  Her long-hair neatly smoothed down is tied into a knot at the back, and glistens with the pearl-like ornaments.  The taper arm is loaded with armlets and bracelets.  The very toes are bedecked with rings.  The bodice hides the taper waist and budding bosom, the tiny ear is loaded with jewelled ear-rings, the very nose is not forgotten, but is ornamented with a golden circle, bearing on its circumference a pearl of great price.  The art, the posturing, the mimicry, is really admirable.  A good bara roopee is well worth seeing, and amply earns the two or three rupees he gets as his reward.