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Peregrine suggested that they were a mile off. "Dear me! how plain we can see them—a mile off, they won't be here yet for some time.

Well, I must go back to your papa, now, Julia-or he will be cross with me for leaving him so long-I never knew such a man in my life-never in all my lifenever;" and, soliloquizing as she went along, Mrs. Poggleton returned to her affectionate husband, who immediately asked what she had been doing, and why she could not stay with him.

In about twenty minutes a large boat, with a vast number of rowers (making a great noise), and a tolerably stout awning, came alongside the Leander, and Peregrine having been given to understand by one of the officers of the ship that this was called an accommodation boat, and that it was the best kind of boat possible to land in, lost no time in securing it for the party, though he might have saved himself any trouble about it, as the maunjee (master) came on board with a piece of paper in his hand, intimating that the boat had been despatched by Mr. Havasall for Mr. Poggleton and family.

After a great deal of trouble, and fussing and scrambling, in the midst of which Peer Khan was eminently useful, the Poggletons, Peregrine Pultuney, and his domestic, were safely lodged with their baggage in the accommodation boat, enjoying as much as such things can possibly be enjoyed, the undulating motion of their conveyance, the bright sun, and the excessive heat. For some time the

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party, like Wordsworth's "party in a parlour,” sat "all silent," if not "all damned." The ladies began to feel very sick, and Peregrine, who was a tolerable sailor, began to divert his thoughts from the massoolah boat, for fear that he might feel sick, whilst Mr. Poggleton began to amuse himself by grumbling with all his might.

"Well, this is pleasant," he said, in a voice between a growl and a whine, "very pleasant, indeed -we have nothing like this in Bengal-we land there like Christians, at a ghaut-no swell, no surf there, curse it—and this horrid glare from the water, quite enough to shrivel up one's eyes in their sockets. An accommodation boat-they call this an accommodation boat-I never saw such accommodation-lucus à non lucendo; but you women don't know Latin-how should you? I wish to Heaven I had never stirred out of Calcutta. Mrs. Poggleton, why on earth do you make such unaccountable faces."

Mrs. Poggleton did not know why on earth she made them, but she knew well enough why she made them on the water, so she stammered out as well as she was able, "Dear me! I don't knowbut this is certainly a very strange motion indeed."

"Very strange indeed-very," returned Mr. Poggleton, for once in his life agreeing with his wife—

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very strange, we have nothing like it in the river, at Calcutta. Now, hold tight-don't come sprawling over me, I beseech of you-well

well-over the first surf-shall we ever be over them all?"

"I hope we shall," returned Peregrine, taking upon himself to answer the question.

"You do-do you? so do I," growled the invalid. "What a wretched place this Madras is to be sure-one can't approach it without doing penance. I didn't want to come here-who does, at such a time of year as this-and they call it an accommodation boat, do they?-why it is not half so good as the common boleau (boat) in the Hooghly--Now, hold tight there-here's another surf-if you don't, you'll have to be picked up by one of those catamaran fellows along side."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Poggleton, "only think-to be picked up by one of those—I'd rather die first-hold fast, Julia."

Nothing more was said, and in a little time the last and highest surf was approached. Mr. Poggleton folded his arms and endeavoured to look resigned; Mrs. Poggleton held on grimly to the side of the boat, whilst Peregrine slid his arm round Julia's waist, and took advantage of the confusion to give her a tight hug, and whisper into her ear something or other about "sweetest girl," which was responded to by something or other very much indeed like "dear Peregrine." The boatmen, as the round-bottomed vessel ascended the mountain of waters, begun in chorus to clamour for buxees, and to rest on their oars as they did so, whilst the proprietors of the

catamarans along side of the boat looked out for a good opportunity of body-snatching out of a watery

grave.

Up! prow forward, amidst noise and confusiona moment balanced on the summit of a breaker, louder and louder grew the cry for buxees; tighter and tighter grew Peregrine's grasp of the sweet Julia's waist-and then back went the mass of water, breaking and foaming on the sandy beach, as the boat with a shock that would have discomposed a rhinoceros, was dashed flounderingly on the sloping shore. Mrs. Poggleton was thrown shrieking right into her husband's lap, for his side of the boat was down, whilst the other was high in the air, and Peregrine, managing in the midst of the confusion to snatch a kiss, slipped Julia between his knees and prevented her falling forward; Peer Khan was nearly crushed by the descent of a heavy box, whilst the whole party with the exception of Julia, who was effectually screened by the broad back of her lover, were drenched to the skin by the breaking surf; and had scarcely time to make the discovery, before the swarm of boatmen had scrambled into the water, and, whilst Mrs. Poggleton was thinking that she was on the point of being drowned, hauled the boat high and dry on the beach-and thus our party were landed at Madras.

CHAPTER VII.

Embracing a Period of some Months, and containing some 'Rough Notes" of a Visit to Madras.

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As we are " acknowledged good hands" at the pathetic, we shall leave our readers to imagine how truly affecting a scene we might make in this place, were we so inclined, of the parting--a sad thing at the best-a very sad thing indeed-of Peregrine Pultuney from his beloved Julia, on board the Leander, when that vessel, after a week's sojourn at Madras, sailed out of the roads, with as fair a wind. as could be expected at that season of the year. Every reader's imagination will, we have no doubt, furnish him with a sufficiently romantic picture of the young people's distress; and if it does not, we have only to say that if we were to have exerted ourselves, our exertions would have been very much thrown away upon such unimaginative beings.

But the Leander sailed, taking with her the Poggletons, and leaving Peregrine at Madras, of which place we think it is incumbent on us to offer something in the way of description. Now, Madras is

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