Guindy, Madras
March 29, 1924
Dear Margaret:
Just a line before I put on my hot blue clothes to go to the Gov't House to luncheon.  I am advised to wear blue.  They say silk would be too comfortable for a vice-regal function.
Yesterday and the day before I went to Ranipet 70 miles away to see our work there.  When we arrived the Brahmin physicians in charge of the local work put a wreath of jasmine around my neck and had an assistant fan me during my stay in the office.  In the evening we drove to a village 12 miles
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miles further off to hear an out-door lecture in Tamil on poochies by another one of the Hookworm doctors.  Again was I invested with jasmine and this time before the multitude before the temple.  I left my wreath on with the result that the bits of red wool that decorated the wreath stained my coat.  But what of that,-it should wash out!
I spent the night with Dr. Galen Scudder, one of the Group that Dr. Flora Innes is with at Vellore, a few miles further on.  Dr. Innes was away and I had no time to go further.
Providence guided me to Ranipet on one of the two
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weekly ice-cream days in the Scudder household.  I lived up to American traditions.
Yesterday we drove straight through to Madras in a ratty Ford.  We stopped to refresh ourselves with plantain and coconut, our only food and drink all day, at Conjeerenam [sic], one of the seven great Hindu temples of India.
To day I have packed.  I removed the mongoose from my suit-case three times and think he is not in with my clothing now.  He has a reputation for burrowing into the cushion of one of the chairs in the drawing room, but no-one has sat heavily on
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him yet.
Address me in care of the Am-Consul at Calcutta or Bombay.
I hope you all have a very good time at Nuwara Eliya.  Give Mother my best love when she arrives.
The enclosed tinsel is off my last huge wreath of jasmine.  Look out for the red stuff,--it stains.  The tinsel's best for the time being.
I hope it has not been altogether too hot in Colombo.  It is hot and dry here and Velore is already declared a famine area.  The last monsoon failed.
With love,
Wilbur