every European passer-by to enter, with "Plenty very fine thing got, master; master want fine cloth; master, come see fine shop, buy." A little within the doors might be seen the book-keepers sitting cross-legged on the floor, with their long China paper books by their sides, looking three parts asleep or more, and only brightening up with the entrance of a customer; whilst the space between two rows of shops, scarcely worthy to be called a street, was densely thronged with human creatures of various nations and denomi-nations, all huddled gregariously together. Hosts of natives, from the fat baboo in his white flowing robes to the naked cooly with the cumbrous burden on his head, were wending along the alley. A knot of jack-tars, with straw hats, blue jackets, and Chinsurrah cheroots in their mouths, were staggering through the crowd, and apparently looking out for a spree-some wretched cripples, displaying their nude deformities, and endeavouring to excite compassion by the disgusting exhibition of limbs without extremities, twisted spines and unsightly hunchbacks, were creeping about at the feet of the European passengers, until they were pushed aside by some importunate itinerant salesman, with a cage of avadavats or a parcel of China fans, solicitous to engage the attention of the purchasing portion of the community. A few palankins might be seen, here and there, slowly moving along, and attracting the notice of the shopkeepers, who salaamed as they

passed by, and proclaimed as usual the possession of "plenty fine things;" whilst an occasional party of European soldiers, with their wives, gave a variety to the motley assemblage. The whole scene was novel and diverting to our hero, who had never seen any thing like it before.

But Julian Jenks, who, living as he was on his own foundation in the South Barracks, had seen at least twenty times as much of the Indian world as Peregrine had from the fine house in Chowringhee, seemed to know perfectly well his way about the bazaar, and to be acquainted with several of the dealers as a proof of which he conducted our hero into a furniture-shop, and told him that he would find it necessary to buy several articles, and that he could not provide himself at a better establishment.

"With all my heart," said Peregrine, as he entered a shop in which chairs, tables, beds, couches, and other articles of upholstery were huddled promiscuously together; "and what shall I buy first?"

"Master buy plenty things," returned the head of the establishment, after making a profound salaam-"master buy three-four hundred rupee things-tousand rupees, master, I sell.”

"I have no doubt of it," observed Peregrine; "but first of all, what's the price of this bed?" "Master, I say proper price," replied the obsequious dealer-"very cheap, master, I sell—that bed I say forty rupee."

"Very well," said Peregrine, "write it downone bed forty rupee."

"Stop," interposed Mr. Jenks, "you must not do that, my good fellow. Forty rupees! why I bought the very fellow to it for sixteen rupees the day before yesterday. Oh! you rogue!"

Nay, sahib," remonstrated the baboo, very meekly, "I not rogue-I say forty rupee. Forty rupee that asking price-master say sixteenmaster take-be good to poor man, master; buy plenty things, I sell. Mr. Chenk, he buy things from me; he know price, buy very cheap."

"Yes," said Julian, "and very lucky for my friend that I do know the price. You see, Pultuney, that if you give about the third of what these people ask for their goods, you are pretty sure of giving too much. The 'asking price,' as this man calls it, is nothing. They never expect to get what they ask, for nobody ever thinks of giving it. Fhillithat the only way to annoy one of these men is to give him immediately what he asks, and he will go away cursing his folly for not having asked three times as much."

more says,

"Thank you for the information," returned Peregrine, "we do things very differently in England; but now, let me see-I want two tables-six chairs -a pair of couches-a book-case-a chest of drawers, and a washing-stand."

"Yes, master, I show-all things got sell very cheap-master buy all thing he want."

"Yes," said Jenks, "you had better select every thing you want, and then buy them all in a heap."

This was done accordingly; and in half-an-hour

afterwards Peregrine had bought all the things enumerated above, besides a dinner and breakfast set-a great quantity of glasses-a butter-bowlsome dish-covers-a pair of table pedestals (Anglicé, candle-sticks) with glass shades-a patent coffeepot-a dozen table-cloths - a pair of decanters -a great number of dinner-knives (plate he had brought with him)-six dozens of beer, and a box of cheroots-for the whole of which he disbursed about four hundred rupees, and went home well contented with his bargain.

CHAPTER XI.

Containing some Account of Dum-Dum-the Roads leading to it, and Life in Cantonments.

As it is incumbent on us to proceed a little faster with our history, we shall, without any further delay, send Peregrine Pultuney and Julian Jenks to report themselves at the head-quarters of their regiment, which, as everybody knows, is a place called Dum-Dum, about seven miles distant from Calcutta, situated in the midst of one of the pleasantest swamps in India, and famous for the salubrity of its climate as well as the excellence of its roads.

It was a fine steamy Wednesday morning when our friends set out from Calcutta, in one of Messrs. Hunter and Co.'s hack buggies, with the intention of breakfasting, according to invitation, with Mr. Clay, in his bungalow at Dum-Dum. Not being particularly well acquainted with the geography of the Calcutta suburbs, they thought it expedient to take with them Peer-Khan, who sat at the bottom