is over, it would be foolish to do so. Besides, I have heard lately that there is every probability of great promotion in the 97th; so I think I will still stand by the Sky-blue. My mind is now relieved from its chief pressure by the kindness of dearest Clara and her generous husband.
"I must now tell you of the death of a brother officer. Lieutenant Bindon. He died on the 13th of May at about five o-clock in the morning. Poor fellow! his was a short but painful illness. I remember when I went into his room the sun was shining brightly through the windows, the birds were singing cheerily, and the merry laugh of the light-hearted soldiers (plainly audible from their barracks) grated harshly on my ear. He was dead! Looking at his meek and placid face, calm and unruffled, I could hardly believe that I was not gazing on the living man. But, alas! his soul had fled. He was a robust and stalwart-looking man, about twenty-four years of age. With God's help, I trust I have learnt a lesson and a warning from his sudden death. He was buried the same evening in the small graveyard at the foot of the hill as you enter the cantonment. I, as senior subaltern, had command of the firing party. When we arrived, the twilight was fast verging into darkness, and the funeral service was read by the light of a candle. This is soon over, and then all retire from the grave except myself and armed party of forty men. We then give three volleys — the rolling echoes are still reverberating when the earth is thrown in — and all is over. Such has been the melancholy end of my poor friend and mess-mate. I was deeply affected, and could not restrain my tears all the time. I felt my voice choked when I gave the command, 'Fire three volleys in the air.'
"I am now in the quarters he once occupied. It is a pretty cottage with two rooms, and a verandah in front. When 1 first went into it the passion-flower,
