en
towards its close, the wells are full, and from these, after the land
has been ploughed, and the seed sown for the rabee crop, the most
valuable crop of the year, the fields are irrigated. Whatever grows in
our land in summer grows in North-Western India at that season: wheat,
oats, barley, potatoes, carrots, are grown in abundance. About March the
harvest is reaped.

As I proceed with these reminiscences, I shall have frequent occasion to
refer to our North Indian winter, its scenes, and employments, and I
have thought it well to enter at some length into a description of its
peculiarities.

One thing I observed my first year which I had abundant opportunity to
observe afterwards. The weather so welcomed by Europeans is very trying
to most natives, especially to those of the humbler classes, whose
clothing is very scanty. They never try to get warm by taking exercise.
They cower in the morning and evening round a fire, which has commonly
for its fuel dried cow-manure, with a coarse blanket over their head and
shoulders. As the sun gets above the horizon, they plant themselves
against a wall to bask in its rays, and if they can, do not stir till
they are well heated. As might be expected, many of them suffer from
chronic rheumatism. The extreme heat is not liked by them, but from it
they suffer far less than from cold.

While most Europeans get new life in the cold weather, the little ones
showing by their rosy cheeks how much they are benefited, a few are in
better health when the weather is warm, as then they are less subject to
aguish attacks. The remark is often made by those who have much
sedentary work that they like the cold season for enjoyment, but find it
unfavourable for work, as they cannot keep so steadily at it as they can
when the heat keeps them within doors.

While giving the reminiscences of my first year, my mind has been
continually carried forward to the experience of after-years in
reference to the vernacular languages, the various classes with whom
residence in India brings one into contact, and the seasons of the
country. In giving partial expression to this experience under the
heading of my first year, I have gone far beyond it. Those who favour me
with the perusal of my narrative may perhaps find it more intelligible
by my having anticipated myself.

I must confess months of the first year passed before I ceased to feel
myself an exile. The scenes around were so unlike those of my own