W. S. R. Hodson, Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India
“ The creeds of the party are as varied as their colors; and that's saying a good deal, when you contrast my white face and yellow hair with Sir Henry's nut-brown, the pale white parchmenty-color of the Kashmeree, the honest brunette tinge of the tall Sikh, the clear olive-brown of the Rajpoot, down through all shades of dinginess to the deep black of the low-caste Hindoo. I am one of the whitest men in India, I fancy, as, instead of burning in the sun, I get blanched like endive or celery. ”
