his company. He is a hero, though a mere
boy. That pale-faced civilian is a man of
great ability, and possesses administrative
talents of the very highest order. Seated on
an ottoman, talking to Mrs. Hastings, is the
famous Hawkins, of the Third Dragoons.
Laughing, in the side doorway, is the
renowned William Mumble. He is the beau
ideal of a dashing soldier. Yonder is Major
Starcross, whose gallantry in Afghanistan
was the theme of admiration in Europe. And
there is Colonel Bolt, of the Duke's Own.
All of these men have been under very hot
fire— the hottest that even Lord Hardinge
could remember. All of them are decorated
with medals and ribbons. Where will you
see handsomer women than you frequently
meet in a ball-room at Mussoorie, or Simlah?
Amongst those now assembled there are three
who, at any court in Europe, would be
conspicuous for their personal attractions— Mrs.
Merrydale, Mrs. Plowville, and Mrs. Banks.
Mrs. Apsley is a pretty little woman;
but the three to whom I have alluded are
beautiful.

The dancing has commenced, and will
continue until four o'clock, with an interval of
half an hour at supper-time. The second
supper— the ladies being gone— will then
commence, and a very noisy party it will be.
Unrestrained by the presence of the fair sex,
the majority of those who remain will drink
and smoke in earnest, and the chances are,
there will be several rows. Ensign Jenks, when
the brandy and water inflames him, will ask
young Blackstone of the Civil Service, what
he meant by coming up and talking to his
partner during the last set of quadrilles.
Blackstone will say, "the lady beckoned to
him." Jenks will say, "it is a lie!"
Blackstone will rise to assault Jenks. Two men
will hold Blackstone down on his chair. The
General will hear of this, for Captain Lovelass
(who is himself almost inarticulate) has said
to Jenks, "Cossider self unarrest!" Jenks
will have to join his regiment at Meerut,
after receiving from the General a very severe
reprimand.

While talking over the past ball, an archery
meeting, or a pic-nic, is sure to be suggested.
It must originate at the club: without the
countenance of the club— which is very jealous
of its prerogative— no amusement can
possibly be successful. A lady, the wife of a civilian,
who prided herself on her husband's
lofty position, had once the temerity to try
the experiment, and actually sent round a
proposal-paper in her own handwriting, and
by one of her own servants. She failed, of
course. All the club people wrote the
word "seen," opposite to their names; but
withheld the important word "approved."
Even the tradespeople at Mussoorie acknowledge
the supremacy of the Himalaya Club.

The season is over. The cold weather has
commenced in the plains. It is the fifth of
October, and everybody at Mussoorie is on
the move— going down the hill, as it is called.
Every house which was lately full is now
empty, and will remain so till the coming
April. The only exceptions will be the schools
for young ladies, and for little boys; the
convent, the branch of the North West Bank,
and the Post Office. Invalided officers who
reside at the Sanatarium during the summer,
will go down the hill, and winter in Deyrah-Dhoon.
In another month the mountains
will be covered with snow; and it would be
dangerous to walk out on these narrow roads;
few of which are railed in.

Let us sum up the events of the season:
Four young men were victimised; two at
cards and two at billiards. Two duels were
fought on the day after the ball. In one of
these duels an officer fell dead. In another
the offending party grievously wounded his
antagonist. Four commissions were sacrificed
in consequence of these encounters.
There were two elopements. Mrs. Merrydale
went off with Lieutenant Maxwell,
leaving her children under the care of the
servants, until her husband came to take
them away. Mrs. Hastings, who used to
bore us about the duties of a wife, carried
off that silly boy Stammersleigh. These
elopements led to two actions in H. M.
Supreme Court of Calcutta, and seven of us
(four in one case and three in the other) had
to leave our regiments, or appointments, and
repair to the Supreme Court to give evidence.
Some of us had to travel fourteen hundred
miles in the month of May, the hottest mouth
in India.

There was another very awkward circumstance
connected with that season at Mussoorie.
The reader knows that Captains
Locke and Bunyan were ordered to join their
regiments, the unexpired portion of their
leave having been cancelled by order of his
excellency the Commander-in-Chief. In the
hurry of his departure from the hills, Locke
had left in the drawer of a table a letter from
Bunyan, containing a proposal to victimise a
certain officer— then in Mussoorie— in the
same manner that they had victimised one
Lord George Straw,— namely, to get him to
their rooms, and play at brag. Lord George
Straw had lost to these worthies eighteen
hundred pounds on one eventful night. The
general opinion was, touching a very extraordinary
fact connected with the play, that
Lord George had been cheated. This letter
from Bunyan to Locke was found by the
servant of the officer who now occupied the
apartments recently vacated by Locke.
The servant handed it to his master, who,
fancying that it was one of his own letters,
began abstractedly to read it. Very soon,
however, he discovered his mistake. But
he had read sufficient to warrant his reading
the whole, and he did so. A meeting
of gentlemen at the club was called; and,
before long, Locke and Bunyan left the army