missionary. I don't know him, but his wife, a very clever, interesting
woman, I met when she was last home, and she told me about her home in
the jungle until I longed to see it. Boggley will come for me in about
ten days. Bella I shall leave in Calcutta. It would be a nuisance
carting her about from place to place, and I am not so helpless that I
can't manage for myself.

Expect next mail to receive a budget of prodigious size.




THE SUNBURNED EARTH




_Takai, Jan. 19_.

There is no doubt this is the ideal place for letter-writing. I sit
here, in the verandah, with long, quiet hours stretching out before me
and nothing to do but write and write, and I suppose that is why for
the last thirty minutes I have sat nibbling the end of my pen and
dreaming--without putting pen to paper.

Where did I leave off? The Monday we left Calcutta, wasn't it? To
continue. The said Monday was a strenuous day. Boggley absented
himself till late afternoon, while I wrestled with wild beasts at
Ephesus in the shape of bearers and coolies, my Hindustani deserting
me utterly, as it always does at a crisis. G., desolated at the