Directly in front, as you look out, is the main street of the town, which looks like a sort of Boule vard, with its avenue of trees on each side; but there the comparison ceases, for the stir of life here is thoroughly un-Gallic. Looking off from the street to the right hand, you see the river C, with its long bridge of twenty-three arches; on the left is the B→→→, with a bridge of eleven arches; on the further side of which is a fine irrigation channel, with beauti ful mango trees growing along its bank, looking in the distance delightfully like old English elms. The rivers are not very full just now, as there has been a long drought, but their very emptiness has a beauty of its own, inasmuch as it shows the rocky boulders that lie along the bed of the rivers, and look like stepping-stones of the giants. Parasals (pronounced purrashul), just like coracles, are used here instead of boats, and the men paddle them among the rocks in a wonderfully adroit manner. Our bungalow is a fine building very superior to the ordinary "travel lar's bungalow." It may claim to be called "an upstair house," the upstair accommodation consisting of one very large room, with fine verandah, reached by a flight of steps from outside. The bungalow, and also the extensive buildings of the pagoda or temple, are within the fort walls, and you drive up through an old gateway, in either side of which is a small alcove, or shrine, for an ugly little swami (god), in front of which a light is placed in the evening. (If the thoughts of these people are only half as ugly as their gods, they must, indeed, be "carthly, sensual, devilish.") of the fort, the walls appear to be the only remaining remnant. It was customary in the old time to fortify pagodas. These walls are of stone, are sixteen feet thick, and you can walk along the top of them nearly all the way round. But to go back to our talk about the bungalow-when you are dropped down near it, you look up and say, "Dear me, there is room enough here for a man, even though, like Job, he has seven sons and three daughters." You go up the noble flight of steps, twenty-six in number, and very tiring, as they slope forward, and you soon find you have been taken in by appearances, for the place consists mainly of one very spacious room, around three sides of which runs a large verandah, which is supported on pillars that resemble black marble, with a band of that yellow Italian marble let in at the capitals. All the chunam work is well done, and highly polished. (Chunam is plaster made of fine lime (of burned sea shells), the outer coat of which is mixed with some glutinous matter (popularly said to be the white of eggs), and which bears as high a polish as marble, and is nearly as hard, and, when uncoloured, of a creamy white.) There is a good bamboo pandal (pronounced pandaul) just along the picce of verandah in front of the door of the room, which latter faces north, and commands the principal street of the town so well, that a man sitting up here could, with a good rifle, just calmly "keep the street." The bungalow was built between fifty and sixty years ago by Mr. X, the then collector of the district; and I give him credit for good sense in his selection of a site, and also for having raised his rooms well up from the ground-for he has chosen a site which, as I said, commands the main street, and also a lovely view of the two noble rivers, with the channel bank; altogether a rich, English-looking scene, and one that it does one's eyes good to rest on, as it is luxuriant in verdure, and one's heart good to think of, as it vividly recalls the scenery of the old homeland. In raising up his room' he ensures a breath of air to the inhabiter; for whatever air may play over the rivers comes in there, and a nice healthy feel there is about it, quite unlike the land breeze, which in most places you shrink from, because it means aguish fever. It is a pity Mr. X- built up the large space under his principal room; there it remains, a solid mass of rock and earth, and people say that he buried in its midst the lakhs of rupees he cribbed from the revenue, for which defalcation an inquiry was about to be made by special commission, when Mr. X- - was summoned to a higher tribunal. I should think he probably spent all the money, as his habits are said to have been the reverse of careful, and he may have dispersed a good deal among his temple friends, for, if common "gup" (gossip-report) says truly, he appears to have been one of those who, mingling with the heathen, learned their ways. The large room has eight windows and four doors. From the south, or back door, you go down a short flight, of steps, which brings you to a landing, on either side of which you find a good-sized bed-room and bath-room. Beneath these rooms are corresponding rooms on the ground-floor, which are used by the office people, and as go-downs; and thore you have the whole house, which covers more ground, than many a grand "villa residence" at home... A few yards across the compound, and you c u enter the temple. The gopuram (pronounced goprum), a building answering to our church tower or steeple, is very high and handsome, But of the temple, more another time. The day after we came here we walked round the walls, and down to the Kudal, or junction of the rivers. This is a very sacred spot, and there are long flights of steps for the people to go down and bathe in the holy stream, which, by the way, abounds with alligators. We constantly saw the ugly creatures basking on the rocks in the river-bed. We found many pretty flowers growing wild among the barren rocks. This is the first place where I have been able | to feel that "every prospect pleases.". The fact that "man is vile” intrudes itself upon one's recognition only too constantly-almost every stray bit of rock about has some ugly swami cut upon its face, Jan. 7.-To-day we went to see the anicut, or direction till we came to a tope (or grove) of tamarind trees. This we entered, and the sight presented was extraordinary, though I am sorry to say no novelty in this land, where Ezekiel xx. 28 is fully borne out. Here we found a superior style of "Swami house," and the potsherd deities numbered as many as thirty, new and old. There were also eleven horses, resembling in shape those shapeless wooden horses, painted in spots, with scrub mane, known to most of the youngsters of Old England. umbre 1: ddrwy ba The presiding deity is a swami of very imposing appearance, eighteen feet high, and just a very little like one of those huge Assyrian gods in the British Museum. On one platform are a number of womenswamies, each with an infant tucked under her arm, which infant's sex is signified by a large stiff black paint moustache! I supposed this to be a shrine to which women come to pray for male offspring, for, like Israelitish women, it is a great object with them to have a son, as a wife may be supplanted by a second wife unless she bears a son to perform his father's funeral ceremonies, and deliver his soul from Put, or hell. Everything was being cleaned up and painted red, ready for the great festival of Tai Pungal, which comes on during the second week in January; The native, as a rule, is so averse to what we call cleanliness, that I often wished the "Tai Pungal" came on once a fortnight instead of only once a year. At this time they paint their housefronts in stripes of red and white, and even the horns of the bullocks are painted alternately red and white, or red and blue. weir, which dams up the waters of the B- and We walked along the channel-bank in a southerly diverts them into the channel for irrigation purposes. This anicut, as compared with our home weirs, is on a colossal scale, built of large boulders of gneiss clamped with iron. The rivers are now very low, but how grand it must be, when they are full, to see the waters surging and seething over these masses of rock which man has piled together to make them subserve his use. There is growing up, just below the anicut, quite a forest of trees, but, thick and high as they are, the "fresh" of the river pours its waters on and over them, giving them renewed strength and vigour as it rushes by. The dammed-up water above this weir is just like a good-sized lake, with, oh! such lovely trees on its banks! In front it opens out towards the further upper end of the river, and on the left bank the trees look, in the distance, like goodly oaks and elms. The low scrub trees are overhung with a profusion of beautiful creepers, and even at the distance where we stood we could see that they were thickly studded with the large blossoms of the white convolvulus. On the right bank the foliage is truly oriental, for you have tall feathory cocoa-nut palms and beautiful clumps of the bamboo, gracefullest of trees (really a grass) that grace the land, and the rich green of the plantain. Leaving the anicut, in the centre of which is a swami, we went along a few yards to the west to see the head sluice of the channel. Zaldy The channel, banks and all, looks exactly like a small river, and is nearly as wide as our English Avon, above Bath. The pacotahs, or machines for drawing water, look pretty, and, though rude in construction, are an excellent contrivance for the purpose to which they are applied. edtele MASZ LUCILLA WALKER. wooft-basorg aft to f CHAPTER IX. THE QUACK." Jolqooq BY THE EDITOR. It was true, as Jock Hall had heard, that Sergeant Mercer was unwell. The events of the few previous weeks, however trivial in the estimation of the great world, had been to him very real and afflicting. The ecclesiastical trials and the social annoyances, with the secret worry and anxiety which they had occasioned, began to affect his health. He grew dull in spirits, suffered from a sense oppression, and was "head-achy," fushionless," and "dowie." He resolved to be cheerful, and do his work; but he could neither be the one nor do the other. His wife prescribed for him out of her traditional pharmacopoeia, but in vain. Then, as a last resort, "keeping a day in bed" was advised, and at once acceded to by him. It was about this time, at the beginning of his ill-with the appearance of the unknown doctor, who exness, that a person, dressed in rather decayed black clothes, with a yellowish white neckcloth, looking like a deposed clergyman, gently tapped at his door. plained that he was a stranger his residence being ordinarily in London, except when travelling on professional business, as on the present occasion. He said THE STARLING. that he had devoted all his time and talents to the study Katie was much impressed by this self-sacrificing philanthropist, and expressed a cordial wish that he should see the Sergeant. Adam, after some conversation with his wife, thought it best, for peace sake, to permit the entrance of the doctor. After he had made some unctuous demonstrations and given assurances of his skill, the Sergeant asked him: "Hoo do I ken ye're speakin' the truth, and no cheatin' me?" "You have my word of honour, Sergeant!" replied Dr. Mair, "and you don't think I would lie to you? Look at me! I cannot have any possible motive for making you unwell. Horrible thought! I hope I feel my sense of responsibility too much for that!" Whereupon he took out of a black bag many phials and boxes of pills, arranging them on a small table at the window, and proceeding to describe their wonderful qualities in inflated English, which he wished to be considered the language of a scholarly gentleman, interlarding his speech with Latin terms-of his own invention of course-to give it a learned colouring. It "This box," he said, "acts on the spirits. is the spiritum cheerabilum. it removes all nervous, agitating feelings what It cures depression; we call depressiones; it soothes the anxious mind, because acting on the vital nerves going to the root of the sensations through the gastric juice, heart, and liver, along the spinal cord. doses of this would put you on your legs, SerA few geant! I never once knew it fail if persevered in for a few weeks, with faith-with faith!" he added, with a benignant smile; "for faith, I am solemnly persuaded, can even now, remove mountains!" "Doctor, or whatever ye are," said the Sergeant, in an impatient tone of voice, "I want nane o' yer pills or drugs; I hae a guid doctor o' my ain." "Ha!" said Dr. Mair; "a regular practitioner, I presume? Yes, I understand. Hem! College bred, and all that." "Just so," said the Sergeant. "Eddicated, as it were, to command the regiment; and no an ignoramus, wha only says he can do't." especial' as guid and learned men agree wi' him, but "As muckle as yours," replied the Sergeant; "mair no wi' you." "How do you know they are good and learned?" asked Dr. Mair, smiling. །་ Their word is surely as guid as yours," said Adam, "Hoo do I ken ye're good and learned, and no leein' ? replied Mair, "rather than to ten thousand so-called learned men. "But God might surely reveal to me the truth," receive what is concealed from the great and selfconfident." Babes and sucklings, you know, may I!" said the Sergeant. "Onyhoo, I think it's mair Dr. Mair. Adam. 1 lings for what maybe didna cost ye a bawbee-pills prayers for the cure of disease," said the quack, wi' ye!" which was meant to be impressive. He sighed, as if yer business to auld wives and idewits, that deserve real or pretended-to pursue his calling as a lecch, CHAPTER X.-CORPORAL DICK. It was immediately after this interview that a very different person paid his annual visit to the Sergeant. This was his old comrade, Corporal Dick, who lived in the village of Darnic, several hours' journey by the "Highflyer" coach from Drumsylie. The Corporal, while serving in the same regiment with the Sergeant, had been impressed, as we indicated in our first chapter, by the Christian character of the Sergeant. Those early impressions had been deepened shortly after his return home. We need not here record the circumstances in which this decided change in his sentiments and character had taken place. Many of our Scotch readers, at least, have heard of the movement in the beginning of this century by the devoted Haldanes, who, as gentlemen of fortune, and possessing the sincerest and | strongest Christian convictions, broke the formality which was crushing Christian life in many a district of Scotland. They did the same kind of work for the Church in the North which Wesley and Whitfield had done for that in the South, though with less permanent results as far as this world is concerned. Dick joined the "Haldaneites." Along with all the zeal and strictness characteristic of a small body, he possessed a large share of bonhomie, and of the freedom, subdued and regulated, of the old soldier. At these annual visits the old veterans fought their battles over again, recalling old comrades and repeating old stories; neither, however, being old in their affections or their memories. But never had the Corporal visited his friend with a more eager desire to "hear his news" than on the present oceasion. He had often asked people from Drumsylie, whom he happened to meet, what all this disputing and talk about Adam Mercer meant? And every new reply he received to his question, whether favourable or unfavourable to the Sergeant, only puzzled him the more. One thing, however, he never could be persuaded of that his friend Adam Mercer would do anything unbecoming to his "superior officer," as he called the minister; or "break the Sabbath," which, like every Scotchman, he held in peculiar veneration; or be art or part in any mutiny against the ordinances or principles of true religion. And yet, how could he account for all that had been told him by "decent folk" and well-informed persons? The good he heard of the Sergeant was believed in by the Corporal as a matter of course; but what of the evil, which seemed to rest upon apparently equally good authority? swers by the other; the smiling Katie ever and anon filling up the vacancies left in the narrative of ecclesiastical trials by the Sergeant's modesty or his want of memory; the joyous satisfaction of Dick, as he found his faith in his comrade vindicated, and saw how firm and impregnable he was in his position, without anything to shake confidence in his long-tried integrity, courage, and Christian singleness of heart. The Corporal's only regret was to see the Sergeant wanting in his usual elasticity of spirits. The fire in his eye was gone, and the quiet yet joyous laugh no longer responded to the old jokes,-a smile being all he could muster. But the Corporal was determined to rouse him. "The wars" would do it if anything would. And so, when supper came piping hot, with bubbling half-browned toasted cheese, mutton pie, tea and toast, followed by a little whiskey punch, and all without gluttony or drunkenness, but with sobriety and thankfulness felt and expressed-then did the reminiscences begin! And it would be difficult to say how often the phrase, "D'ye mind, Sergeant?" was introduced, as old officers and men, old jokes and old everything-marches, bivouacs, retreats, charges, sieges, battles were recalled, with their anxieties and hardships passed away and their glory alone remaining. Heigho!" the Corporal would say, as he paused in his excitement, "it's growing a dream already, Adam! There's no mony can speak noo aboot these auld times; no auld to you and me, but auld tae them wha's heads are taen up wi' naething but getting money oot o' the peace we helped to get for the kintra: and little thanks for a' we did little thanks, little thanks, atweel!" the Corporal would ejaculate in a die-away murmur. But this was not a time to complain, but to rouse not to pile arms, but to fire. And so the Corporal said, "Did I tell ye o' the sang made by Sandie Tamson? Ye'll mind Sandie weel--the schulemaster that listed? A maist clever chiel!"' 1 Dick would himself hear the details of the "affair," gied me a copy for half-a-crown. I'll let ye hear't-or the battle, as it might turn out. It was therefore a glad day for both Adam and the Corporal when the latter entered his cottage;-a most pleasant change of thought to both-a glad remembrance of a grand old time already invested with romance-a meeting of men of character, of truth and honour, who could call each other by the loyal name of Friend. We must allow the reader to fill up the outline which alone we can give of the meeting - the hearty greetings between the two old soldiers; the minute questions by the one, the full and candid an altho' my pipe is no sae guid as yer Sterlin's." As the Corporal cleared his voice, the Sergeant lifted the nightcap from his ear, and said, “Sing awa'." Dost thou remember, soldier, old and hoary, Those days are past, my soldier, old and hoary, While the song was being sung the Sergeant turned his head on his pillow away from the Corporal. When it was finished, he said, "Come here, Dick." The Corporal went to the bed, and seized the Sergeant's proffered hand. "That sang will do me mair guid than a' their medicine. The guidwife will gie ye half-a-croon for puir Sandie Tamson." Then asking Katie to leave him alone for a few moments with the Corporal, the Sergeant continued, retaining his hand, "Dinna fash yer thoomb, Adam, aboot that business," said Dick. "Ye deserved to hae been drummed oot o' the regiment I mean the kirk+no your kirk nor mine, but the kirk o' a' honest and sensible folk, gif ye had swithered aboot that bird. I hae had a crack wi' the cratur, and it's jist extraordinar sensible like sae erouse and cantyit wad be like murder tae thraw a neck like that! In fac, a bird is mair than a bird when it can speak and sing." "Thank ye, Corporal," said Adam. W "It's some glamour has come ower the minister", said Dick, "just like what cam ower our Colonel, when he made us charge twa thousand at Busace, and had, in coorse, tae fa' back on his supports in disgrace no jist in disgrace, for we never cam tar that, nor never wull, I hope but in confusion." "God's wull be done, auld comrade!" replied Adam; "but it's His wall, I think, that I maun. on the field, and if so, I'm no feared na na Like a guid sodger, I wad like tae endure hard ness. t 7 1 PAPY T orb v. I, 7 & "Ye're speakin' ower muckle," interrupted Dick "and wearyin' yersel'." squeeze. "I maun hae my say oot, Corporal, afore the forlorn hope marches," continued the Sergeant; "and as I was remarkin', and because I dinna want tas be interrupted wi' the affairs o' this life, so as to please Him wha has ca'd me to be a sodgor-I maun mak my last wall and testament noo or never, and I trust you, Dick, mair than a' the lawyers and law! papers in the worl." And he held out his feverish hand to the Corporal, who gave it a responsive. tott Tot 13:11 "I'm no ill, my auld friend; but I'm no weel-I'm "Ye see, Corporal," said the Sergeant, I hae no weel. There's a weight on my mind, and an op- nae fortun' to leave; but I hae laid by something pression aboot me that hauds me doun." for my Katie and what she has been tae me, God "Dinna gie in, Adam-dinna gie in, wi' the help alane kens!" He paused. "And then there's wee o' Him that has brocht ye thro' mony a waur fecht," Mary, that I luve amaist as weel as my Charlie; and replied the Corporal, as he s sat down beside him. then there's the bird. Na, Corporal, dinna blame "D'ye mind the time when ye followed Cainsh up me for speakin' aboot the bird! The Apostle, when the ladder at Badajoz? and d'ye mind when that aboot to be offered up, spak aboot his cloak, and glorious fallow Loyd was kill't at Nivelle! Noo"nae dead cloak was ever dearer to him than the "Ah, Dick! thae days, man, are by. I'm no what I was," said the Sergeant, "I'm a puir crippled, wounded veteran, no fit for ony, mair service- -no even as an elder," he added, with a bitter smile. leevin' bird is tae me, because it was, as ye ken, der tae the wee fallow that was my ain flesh and blu wha is waiting for me. Ye mind Charlie " "Mind Charlie!" exclaimed the Corporal. "Wait awee, Adam!" and he brought forth an old pocket .92%AM HT TA DIG JAя040-IX TAH *These words may be sung to the French air of-" Te souviens-tu? disait un Capitainer"—; baby any bid til at sew treatielo od tad |