apparent effort; but to swallow a body is rather strange. In some countries the bird would have been tried for murder; here nobody but a doctor would dare to kill one.
My dearest Sister,—We are in the Slough of Despond—the absolute morass—I may say the quaking bog of despond. After having watched the career of the ‘Seringapatam’ with the most intense interest, congratulated ourselves on her early arrival at Madras, pitied ourselves on her long passage to Saugur; plagued the heart out of agents, who were going off for their Doorgak Pooja holiday; obtained an order from the Custom House (which is shut for the same reason) that our boxes might pass; and now the ship is come in, and not only is there no box for us, except a box of seltzer-water, but she has not brought us a single English letter! I still think that captain of the ‘Seringapatam’ has secreted our
