lt, and the cleanest I have yet seen since leaving
Europe. The island is sometimes termed the "Garden of the East," and if
it is always as now, I should say the name was justly bestowed. A little
way out in the country is a fine waterfall, which all who call here,
make a point of visiting. Jumping into a pony carriage, locally called a
_gharry_, a comfortable, well ventilated vehicle, capable of seating
four persons, we desire the turban driver to steer for the latter place.
Along the very fine road to the fall, a profusion of palms and gigantic
tree ferns, between thirty and forty feet high, up whose great stems
gaily flowered creepers wind their hawser-like fronds, make a delicious
and cooling shade. Yonder tree away there in the background, with
delicate pea-green leaves, is an old friend of ours. Let your memories
go back to your infancy. Cannot you recall many a wry face; cannot you
remember how unpleasant the after sensations when stern, but kind
mothers forced a nauseous decoction called "senna" down your
widely-gaping throat? You smile. I felt certain you had all experienced
it. Well that is the senna tree.

Large mansions lying back from the roadway, with gates and paths leading
up to their entrances, and a smell of new mown hay, were most home-like
and refreshing.

We should have fared much better had a more mutual understanding existed
between us and our pony. That obtuse little beast, good enough at curves
and tangents, after half an hour's canter, flatly refused to exert
himself above a walk; nor, though frequently encouraged by the whip, did
he accelerate his movements to the end of our drive.

At the fall we had a very refreshing shower bath under a thundering
cascade of water tumbling over the edge of a gorge. Near at hand, and
conveniently so, too, for the priesthood, is a small shrine sacred to
the Hindoo god Brahin, a diminutive edition of whom stands on a little
pedestal, amidst braziers, lamps, figures with elephants' heads and
human bodies, and other monstrosities. You may be certain there was a
mendicant priest in attendance on his godship.

On the return voyage our hack behaved even more ungentlemanly than
before, for now he most emphatically refused to budge an inch,
indicating his intention of becoming a fixture by planting his feet
obliquely, like a stubborn jackass, into the ground. Human nature could
scarcely be expected to tolerate such evidence of mutiny, so, jumping
into the first pas