rsica, or, rather, the shadow of Corsica.
But on the mountain summits, blood-red in the glow of the sunset, in the
boundless sky and on the sea, in all this superb landscape that I had
come here to admire I saw only two poor children, one lying prone on the
edge of a hole filled with black water, the other submerged to his neck,
their hands intertwined, weeping opposite each other, in despair. And it
seemed as though I continually heard a weak, exhausted voice saying:
"Good-by, little brother, I am going to give you my watch."

This letter may seem rather melancholy, dear friend. I will try to be
more cheerful some other day.

A CREMATION

Last Monday an Indian prince died at Etretat, Bapu Sahib Khanderao
Ghatay, a relation of His Highness, the Maharajah Gaikwar, prince of
Baroda, in the province of Guzerat, Presidency of Bombay.

For about three weeks there had been seen walking in the streets about
ten young East Indians, small, lithe, with dark skins, dressed all in
gray and wearing on their heads caps such as English grooms wear. They
were men of high rank who had come to Europe to study the military
institutions of the principal Western nations. The little band consisted
of three princes, a nobleman, an interpreter and three servants.

The head of the commission had just died, an old man of forty-two and
father-in-law of Sampatro Kashivao Gaikwar, brother of His Highness, the
Gaikwar of Baroda.

The son-in-law accompanied his father-in-law.

The other East Indians were called Ganpatrao Shravanrao Gaikwar, cousin
of His Highness Khasherao Gadhav; Vasudev Madhav Samarth, interpreter and
secretary; the slaves: Ramchandra Bajaji, Ganu bin Pukiram Kokate,
Rhambhaji bin Fabji.

On leaving his native land the one who died recently was overcome with
terrible grief, and feeling convinced that he would never return he
wished to give up the journey, but he had to obey the wishes of his noble
relative, the Prince of Baroda, and he set out.

They came to spend the latter part of the summer at Etretat, and people
would go out of curiosity every morning to see them taking their bath at
the Etablissment des Roches-Blanches.

Five or six days ago Bapu Sahib Khanderao Ghatay was taken with pains in
his gums; then the inflammation spread to the throat and became
ulceration. Gangrene set in and, on Monday, the doctors told his young
friends that their relative was dying. The final struggle was already
beginning, and