` It is long since I have ridden this way , but thy boy 's talk stirred me . See , Holy One -- the Great Road which is the backbone of all Hind . For the most part it is shaded , as here , with four lines of trees ; the middle road -- all hard -- takes the quick traffic . In the days before rail-carriages the Sahibs travelled up and down here in hundreds . Now there are only country-carts and such like . Left and right is the rougher road for the heavy carts -- grain and cotton and timber , fodder , lime and hides . A man goes in safety here for at every few koss is a police-station . The police are thieves and extortioners -LRB- I myself would patrol it with cavalry -- young recruits under a strong captain -RRB- , but at least they do not suffer any rivals . All castes and kinds of men move here . ` Look ! Brahmins and chumars , bankers and tinkers , barbers and bunnias , pilgrims and potters -- all the world going and coming . It is to me as a river from which I am withdrawn like a log after a flood . ' And truly the Grand Trunk Road is a wonderful spectacle . It runs straight , bearing without crowding India 's traffic for fifteen hundred miles -- such a river of life as nowhere else exists in the world . They looked at the green-arched , shade-flecked length of it , the white breadth speckled with slow-pacing folk ; and the two-roomed police-station opposite . ` Who bears arms against the law ? ' a constable called out laughingly , as he caught sight of the soldier 's sword . ` Are not the police enough to destroy evil-doers ? ' ` It was because of the police I bought it , ' was the answer . ` Does all go well in Hind ? '
` Rissaldar Sahib , all XXXXX well . ' '
Are Does See coming goes going looked stirred suffer takes