cannot conclude without some allusion to the drawings which are, I believe, to adorn my work, but which I have not yet been enabled to inspect, owing to the fact that, having fish of more importance to fry at the time, I commissioned a certain young English friend (the same who furnished sundry poetic headings for chapters) to engage a designer for the pictorial department. Needless to say, I intended that he was to award the apple only to some Royal Academician of distinguished talents—yet at the eleventh hour, when too late to make other arrangements, I am informed that the job has been entrusted to a certain Birnadhur Pahtridhji, whose name (though probably incorrectly transcribed) certainly denotes a draughtsman of native Indian origin! Whether he is fully competent for such a task I cannot at present say. But, unless he is qualified, like myself, by actual residence in Great Britain, I fear that he may not possess sufficient familiarity with the customs and[xiv] solecisms of English society to avoid at least a few ludicrous and even lamentable mistakes. [xiv] To guard against such contingencies I shall insert a note or comment opposite each picture as it is submitted to me, pointing out in what respects (if any) the artist has failed to represent the author's intentions. I sincerely hope that I may now and then be able to pat the aforesaid Mr P. on the back instead of acting as a Rhadamanthus to rap his knuckles.[1] [1] A BAYARD FROM BENGAL CHAPTER I FROM CALCUTTA TO CAMBRIDGE OVERSEA ROUTE At sea the stoutest stomach jerks, Far, far away from native soil, When Ocean's heaving waterworks Burst out in Brobdingnagian boil! Stanza written at Sea, by H. B. J. (unpublished). THE waves of Neptune erected their seething and angry crests to incredible altitudes; overhead in fuliginous storm-clouds the thunder rumbled its terrific bellows, and from time to time the ghastly flare of lightning illuminated the entire neighbourhood. The tempest howled like a lost dog through the cordage of the good ship
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