consequences in the shape of fever, diseased livers, and cholera morbus, for the sake of killing a tiger, or seeing him killed by a brother-shot. Now and then it does happen that the tiger gets on to the elephant, and lays hold of the leg of the mahout or driver; but the instances of these close-quarter conflicts are so rare, that they are rather to be named as singular exceptions to the monotony of the chase, than as establishing the rule of risk. Besides, it is not to be forgotten, that the nearer the tiger gets to the man with the loaded rifle, the greater the chance of his receiving his death-wound. Still, with all this dreary attempt at sport, there are men who wind themselves up to a wonderful pitch of enthusiasm about the tiger, and have even been known, in the ecstasy of reminiscence, to allow themselves to commit poetry descriptive of some emotions which they fancy possessed them. Here are some lines-admirably parodying a popular song-which an excellent friend of mine suffered himself to perpetrate in a frenzy of delicious recollection. Reduce it to matter of fact, and what does it all come to? A man saw a tiger one night, and he slew it. It is cruel to subject verses to such an analysis, but in grappling with a case, we must lay hold of the strongest illustrations: The hunt, the hunt, the exciting hunt, As we follow his track, not a single thought And our spirit mounts high, and our hearts are light As the cloudless skies on a starry night, As the cloudless skies on a starry night. I'm in the field,-I'm in the field; I am where I will never yield, With the game a-head, to friend or foe, In following hard wheresoever he go; And though he charge with a savage roar, What matter?-what matter?-we love the sport the more; On my elephant's back by the jungle side, I have followed the bounds full many a day, The heavens were dark, and the storm raged high, The eventful night,—the eventful night when first, when first mine eye, As he ranged the woods with a monarch's pride; And while I live, to me-to me There is nought-there is NOUGHT like the tiger fierce and free! To resume my narrative. I was now a writer, keranee, or licknee wallah-for by those three appellations the clerks in the India Government offices are known. My duties were light-so was my salary-and so, to a certain extent, was my heart. I was under no further obligation to appear in the livery of service-the blue jacket, of which I had once been extremely proud-nor compelled to attend parades, nor encounter the impertinence of non-commissioned officers, nor submit to confinement within certain limits after eight o'clock at night-nor sustain a thousand other annoyances inseparable from a subjection to military control. In fact, but for the assurance that I was still borne upon the non-effective list of the artillery, and liable to be returned to duty in the ranks if I at any time incurred a sufficiency of the displeasure of the paymaster to warrant so severe a measure, there was nothing to make me feel that I had not obtained complete emancipation from military slavery. My first step, after arriving at Poona, was to find a covering for my head. There was no difficulty about this. The principal clerk in the office, a married man, with a dark wife and coffee-coloured children, had been precisely in the same situation with myself. A fellow-feeling, superadded to a desire to be at once on a good footing with a colleague, induced him to offer me a room in his bungalow, and the use of a bed, until I could arrange for myself. The "room" consisted of six square feet of the veranda, separated from the remaining space by a canvas partition; the "bed" was a rattan cot, with four ricketty posts supporting a quantity of limp gauze, through which the musquitoes had free and uninterrupted passage at all hours of the night. To lodging was added the hospitality of board, and the unlimited use of the cellar, which was composed of not less than three bottles of various liquidsto wit, brandy, gin, and arrack. Mr. Brown-for so was the head-clerk called-had a fund of interesting conversation, turning upon the important nature of his functions the respectability of the clerks' vocation, as compared with that of conductors of ordnance, who were "a set of vulgar upstarts,”—and the service he (Brown) had performed in the field during the Mahratta Mrs. B. could retail all the gossip of the cantonment. She knew when Mrs. O'Malley was going to manufacture a large quantity of war. guava jelly, and how Mrs. Harrison contrived to give a sweet flavour to her chetnée, and when the daughters of all the clerks, sub-conductors, sergeant-majors, &c. would be of an age to "make marriage"-fourteen being the suitable period for such an arrangement, according to Mrs. B.'s ideas of the fitness of things. To me, her injunctions were frequent to settle myself comfortably in life-a bachelor's home was so dreary-there was no one to make tea, and look after linen, and control servants; what would answer for one would serve for two-and then, a married man was always considered so much more steady than a single gentleman, and, par consequence, so much the more trustworthy. But I was proof against all the worthy dame's injunctions, and not very much edified by the "discoorse" of either her husband or herself. Yet I could not leave their abode, for I had not the means of furnishing a small bungalow for myself. There were no furniture dealers in Poona who sold articles on credit to humble keranees, and I had not more money than would suffice to carry me through the month until pay-day. In my extremity, I consulted a purvoe (native writer) in the office, and he recommended my asking another purvoe, reputed to be wealthily connected, to obtain a loan for me, which could be repaid by monthly instalments. The progress of the negotiation for this loan was so exactly like the proceedings in a score of cases of a similar nature in which I was afterwards personally concerned, or became acquainted with, that it is worth the relating, as illustrative of the native manner of doing business of this nature. I have found since, that the Hebrew fraternity in Europe practise much the same kind of method, and that it has been happily satirized in Sheridan's School for Scandal and Murphy's Citizen :— "Mister Balcrustna," said I,—for then I thought every native gentleman was entitled to the prefix-" Mister Balcrustna; Bappojee tells me you have some rich friends, and that perhaps you would speak to one of them to grant me a loan of money wherewith to buy a little furniture." "Certainly-certainly," answered Balcrustna. "Must be gotyou very good gentlyman-must be have. How much you want?" 'Why, Sir, I should be able to manage with Rs. 200; but I should be better pleased to get Rs. 300." "Three hundred rupees! This very much money. Ah, I see-you want make tumasha-all same as one civilian gentlyman!" "Well-but will you get it?" "Must be-I got one cousin-brother. He dam rich. I speak him for the Rs. 200; but you must pay me littly commission?" "Oh, certainly; any thing to shew my thankfulness." The next day I awaited impatiently Balcrustna's arrival at the office, that I might know the result of his obliging intercession. But I was too sanguine. He had not seen his cousin-brother; but he should do so that evening or the next day. The two days rolled away, and the rich relative had not been seen. On the fourth day, Balcrustna was absent on sick leave, and the fifth day was Sunday. This was tantalizing, very; but it proved a mere Asiat.Journ.N.S.VOL.IV.No.21. 2 K foretaste of the procrastination yet in store. At length, it was arranged I was to see the intended money-lender at his own house, and thither one evening Balcrustna escorted me. Succaram Bimjee lived in the town of Poona, in a narrow street, remarkable for filthy drains, pariar dogs, and ophthalmic children. There was room for one hackery to pass without actually tearing away the chunammed brick ledges or benches which fronted the domiciles; but as a large, sulky, overfed, treacherous brahmanie bull generally occupied the centre of the street, the thoroughfare was not very clear even to the solitary cart. On arriving at Succaram's house, which had a heavy, rudely-carved door, painted a flaming red, my cicerone preceded me upstairs, desiring me to remain under a species of portal, a subject of curious investigation to a Mahratta chowkeydar, who amused himself with glaring upon me, while he twisted his mustachios and masticated paun and betel. In a few minutes, I was called to the " presence;" and in a small narrow room, with whitewashed walls, decorated with singular paintings, on glass, of George IV., when Prince of Wales, all blue coat and brass buttons, and the late Queen Caroline, in a turban and feathers, found the "cousin-brother." Succaram was seated on a species of nummud, or felt carpet, covered with a calico sheet, his back supported by a large pillow. He had divested himself of his turban, tunic, slippers-in fact, of every thing but an apology for unnameables, a white scarf, and a pair of spectacles. He did not rise on my entrance-alas, for our then relative positions, the humble European borrower before the proud Hindoo lender!-but salaamed with a ghastly attempt at an amiable grin, and motioned me to a solitary chair that had long cut all acquaintance with bees'-wax, turpentine, and other renovators. The introduction over, and the mind of Succaram satisfied as to the state of my health, my opinions upon India in general, and Poona in particular, we came to business. "My cousin-brother Balcrustnajee-he very good man, and like to you very much-he tell me you are wanting the one hundred rupees." "Two hundred, Sir, if you please," I said, interrupting him. "Two hundred! That too much money. Arré, my master, this time is too bad. Company take all money-nobody got." I saw that this was a dodge to enhance the importance of the loan, and expressed, in a rather irritated tone, my resolution not to become a borrower of a less sum. He resumed. "Why you angry? I not make force you. Suppose you like to take, very good-suppose not, never mind." I threw in a mollifying word. "Well, then, I must to lend you the two hundred rupees. Certainly must be. You very good man-soon you be governor or commissioner-then that time you not look the face of Succaram. He very poor-you one burra sahib." I protested that no possible change of circumstances could make me oblivious of those who served me in my need. It would, on the contrary, be my pride to help them. He shook his head, as well he might, and indulged me with a long story regarding the number of men, now great captains on the staff, whom he remembered subs, hard up for a few rupees. I urged him to come to the point-and he thus went on. "Two hundred rupees you want. I very sorry that in this bad time I no got myself; but my one friend he will lend me, your sake.— What security you give?" I had been drilled by Balcrustna to offer a life-insurance. "That very good. Englishman come this country, he all the same as one chiraug-one littly wind blow out his life." Here Balcrustna laughed immoderately, and I joined in the mirth. It was very funny, exceedingly, to think that existence in India was so uncertain. I really quite enjoyed the entertaining conceit of going out like the snuff of a candle. "Yes—one chiraug," and he laughed himself at the pleasing metaphor. "Then you pay interest at twelve per cent. yearly?" Certainly." "And my commission for getting money from my friend?" "Good gracious!-you will leave me nothing!" "What for you make angry? I no force you. Suppose you want, you take, suppose" "Oh, very well." "Then you give one order to paymaster for monthly instalment-twenty rupees." 66 Reader, were you ever in very severe and pressing want of a pecuniary supply? If you have always been independent in this respect, I shall find no mercy at your hands. None but those who have experienced penury, and found the wherewithal to satisfy an immediate want almost within their grasp, can comprehend or palliate the recklessness with which the suing borrower assents to all the hard terms a grasping miser takes the opportunity of imposing. Though my pay was, as I have said, but thirty rupees per mensem, I was too avid of the loan of Rs. 200 to hesitate about agreeing to give up two-thirds of my income in liquidation of the debt. I cherished some vague hopes of an early increase of my salary, and hoped, or more than hoped, that I should find in my native creditor an indulgent friend, who would hereafter relax the terms of the bond. "Yes; I will assign twenty rupees per mensem." "Very well; then to-morrow I go my friend's house, and settle the business for you." We parted, and I considered the loan un fait accompli. Two days passed, and I waited on Succaram. He had been unfortunate (of course) in not finding his friend at home. Another daythe friend had been seen, but was too busy on other matters to talk of the loan. A third, a fourth, a fifth day passed, and at last Succaram had persuaded the inconnu―a sort of Boz's Sairey Gamp's "Mrs. Harris" to accommodate me. But he stipulated for another one per cent. interest; would I give it? What would I not give! Then the policy of insurance was taken out, the bond prepared on foolscap paper-the draft being drawn up by the wily lender-and a day fixed for the payment of the money. This was the fifteenth day after my first visit! How sick the "hope deferred" had made my heart, the reader can guess. 66 Well, Mister Succaram, I have come for the money." "I very sorry, my good Sir; but my friend he not sent yet. Surely must be |
