In the year 18—, the —— Regiment, Madras N.I., marched for the cantonment of Secunderabad. The march was accomplished in the average number of days without any more serious mishap or sickness than was usual in those days, owing to the wise precautions taken by the officer in command, in communication with the doctor of the regiment. The length of each march being known, the hour of rising and commencing it was so fixed as to enable the men to reach the ground appointed before the sun was powerfu

The ladies, who were present the following evening when Dr. T. had narrated Colonel B.'s exertions on behalf of Captain E., were loud in his praise, and in their acknowledgments of the gratification they had experienced. Lady Jervois said, 'We can now thank you, Dr. Ticklemore, without any reservation, for assuredly you have afforded us a glimpse of a very fine character; but, like a beautiful dissolving view, you have not allowed us to dwell long enough on the picture.' 'Most true, Lady Jervois

During the year which passed before the Koorg War, and while Colonel L. was in command of the cantonment of Bangalore, a somewhat singular passage-of-arms took place between him and an old lady, Mrs. G., who was the widow of General G., who had, some six months before, died at Nagpore. This lady, having in earlier days dwelt at Bangalore, lost no time in quitting the dry, burning heat of the former locality for the delightful climate of the latter station. She had, through friends, secured a com

The incidents about to be narrated happened during the campaign of 1834, undertaken against the Rajah of Koorg, whose atrocities could no longer be tolerated. The force ordered out for this purpose was divided into three columns: one under the command of General Waugh, a second under someone whose name we cannot call to mind, the third under that of Sir Patrick L., a thorough soldier, known afterwards as the hero of Koorg. The wives and other feminine belongings of the officers on duty with thes

The scene that now presents itself is that of the race stand at Bangalore. The ring, twenty yards distant, is just opposite, with the winning-post about four yards in front of it. All 'the beauty and fashion,' as the newspapers phrase it, are seated in the front rows of the stand, or are fast coming in. Old Tommy H., the General, is seated beside his beloved Anna, who is not merely General, but Generaless too. She is at least forty years younger than her husband, who cannot be less than seventy,

The little plaisanterie about to be narrated took place at the house of the officer whose amiable disposition towards those under his command, and particularly towards my brother and Mrs. B., has previously been shown. Fortunately for all parties, the unhappy temper referred to was not always present, and, as this veritable history will prove, Colonel G. could make himself agreeable and join in fun and mirth as pleasantly even as Mrs. B. herself, who planned and originated le petit jeu now to be

To make a scene is generally considered, and really is in most cases, an unfailing method of affording amusement to the bystanders, and as this amusement is always at the expense of the actors, such performances are very generally avoided. No one willingly, except under unusual and extreme provocation, will run the risk of making himself ridiculous, which making a scene almost always involves. For these reasons exhibitions of this kind are rare, very rare. The fiat of polite society has gone for

The deed of violence which forms the basis of this narrative took place at Tollicherry, or rather in that district. How it was that my brother came to be stationed there will appear in due course. We left him at Bangalore, from whence he marched with his regiment to Secunderabad. He had not been there many months when an order was received directing the regiment to proceed with all possible speed to Scinde, where troops were urgently required. Some weeks before the order in question reached Secu

After the execution of the two Moplahs for the murder of poor Lutchmon Sing, nothing worth recording took place at Tollicherry during some months. People got up in the morning, went to bed at night, and ate their dinners in a very routine, humdrum sort of way, and nothing occurred to vary the monotony of existence except a new number of Lever's 'Charles O'Malley,' or the issue of cards for a dinner or evening party at the First Judge's house, which was a regular monthly institution with that mos