“Be wise as serpents and harmless as doves,” is a saying full of wisdom. I called a boy, whom I knew to be very good and reliable, and said, “Will you take this package, to P----, to-morrow, and tell him that I desire him to give it to T----?” I charged him to see P---- the next day, because if the young lady received her ornament the same day the matter would be worse,--my mother would know it, and my friends would at once start in pursuit of me. The good boy performed his mission satisfactorily I heard. I begged my friend, who helped me to find the goldsmith, to go to my mother two days after I had left, and tell her about the letters I had written and hidden in my desk. While passing by an apothecary’s I remembered that I owed him a little money, and paid him with the small silver pieces I had in my pocket. Much as I wished to reach Calcutta before the high tide, I could not. I asked the boatmen to land me at Bag-bazzar, at the lower part of the city, whence I proceeded to Mr. Dall in a covered Palkee, or Palanquin, as foreigners call it. Desiring to get a musical instrument (a flute), that I might practise with it on board the ship, and thereby cheer up the lonely hours, I tried hard, but could not succeed. Mr. Dall said he would bring me one, but, whether for want of money or of time, I do not know, he failed to do it. As I must embark right off before my friends could arrest me, Mr. Dall took me to his room and asked me to wear pants, cap, etc. O, I _hated_ to do it, fearing the people, even the low-caste boatmen would laugh at me. I told him that there was no necessity for my wearing this strange costume here in Calcutta, that if I had got to do it, I would do it at sea. He would not hear my reasons. I told him again that the English dress would not help me to become a good Christian,--it would only make me look like the strangest and ugliest creature in the world. Fortunately my logic prevailed, and we got in a carriage with our respective dresses. The ship Sabine, that brought me to this country, belongs to Mr. Tredick, of Portsmouth, N. H. Not knowing where she was lying at anchor, we came down the river as far as Bishops’ College and had to go back again. She was near Baboo ghaut. Leaving me on board the ship, Mr. Dall returned to the city with a view to bring the necessary things for the voyage. After dark, our party of four sat at the table, and another, the cabin boy, waited upon us. They all drank wine and ate smoked fish. The smell of these two things was so disagreeable that I thought that they were fit only for savages. One of the party, a young man with a large round face (the second mate), began to sing comic songs and make music with his feet, striking them on the cabin floor. The words of one of his songs were like these-- “I love her, but she doesn’t love me! She loves another. O dear, who can that be?”