distinctly said, “The horse and syce are in _my_ charge!” She went about the compound early every morning, and rigorously turned out vagrants, suspicious-looking visitors to the servants’ quarters, and all dogs and goats! She accompanied her master to mess, and fetched him home, no matter how late the hour--and through the rains (and they are no joke in Bombay) it was just the same; there was the chokedar, with his mackintosh and lantern; and there was also, invariably, the shivering, sleepy little Missus. It was of no avail to tie her up at home; not only were her heartrending howls audible for a quarter of a mile, but on one occasion she actually arrived under the dinner-table, chain and all, to the discomfort of the Colonel’s legs, the great scandal of the mess-sergeant, and her own everlasting disgrace! So she was eventually suffered--like wilful woman--to have her way. Her master’s friends were her friends, and took the Missus quite seriously--but she drew the line at dogs. It must be admitted that her manners to her own species were--not nice. She had an unladylike habit of suddenly sitting down when she descried one afar off, and sniffing the, so to speak, tainted air, that was nothing more nor less than a deliberate insult to any animal with the commonest self-respect; many a battle was fought, many a bite was given and received. The Missus was undeniably accomplished; she fetched papers and slippers, gave the paw, and in the new style--on a level with her head, walked briskly on her hind legs, could strum on the piano, and sing, accompanying herself to a clear, somewhat shrill, soprano. There was a little old pianette in the Major’s sitting-room, on which she performed amid great applause. It was _not_ true that the instrument had been purchased solely for her use, or that she practised industriously for two hours a day. No--the pianette had been handed over to her master by a young man (who had subsequently gone to the dogs) as the only available payment of a sum the Major had advanced for him. Battered old tin kettle as it was, that despised piano had cost one hundred pounds! But no one dreamt of _this_ when they laughed at its shortcomings. The Missus was passionately fond of music, and escorted her owner to the band; but she escorted him almost everywhere--to the club, round the barracks, the racecourse, to church--here she was ignominiously secured in the syce’s “cupra,” as she had a way of stealthily peeping in at the various open doors, and endeavouring to focus her idol, which manœuvre--joined with her occasional assistance in the chanting--proved a little trying to the gravity of the congregation. Of course she went to the hills--where she had an immense acquaintance; she had also been on active service on the Black Mountain, and when one night a prowling Afridi crept on his hands and knees into the Major’s tent, he found himself unexpectedly pinned by a set of sharp teeth,--he carried the mark of that bite to his grave.