“Rather a harsh man, the colonel, isn’t he?” said I, as we went along, hoping to elicit a little consolation in the shape of a negative. “Why,” said the adjutant, “he is certainly a great stickler for duty, and fond of working the young hands—what we call a ‘tight hand.’” I was “floored.” The colonel’s bungalow was on the ramparts of the city, overlooking the Jumna, and the expanse of country through which it flows. Orderlies and a posse of silver-stick men, &c., were about the door; we entered, and the adjutant presented me to Colonel Bobbery, one of the most extraordinary-looking little mortals I ever beheld. The colonel’s height was about five feet four—perhaps less—and his body as nearly approaching to an oblate spheriod as any body I ever beheld. This orbicular mass was supported on two little legs, adorned with very crumpled tights, and a pair of Hessian boots, then much worn, and _minus_ the usual appendage of tassels. His neck, which was remarkably long, was girt round with a very tight black stock, on the top of which, as may be supposed, was his head, the most extraordinary part of this very original specimen of “the human form divine;” his front face (profile he had none, which could be properly so called, bating an irregular curve with a large bulbous projection about the middle) was fat and rubicund; his nose Bardolphian, flanked by two goggle eyes, in which the several expressions of intellect, fun, and sensuality were singularly blended. A small Welsh wig completed the oddest _tout ensemble_ I had yet seen in India. “Oh! you are the young gentleman we have been expecting for the last five months?—better late than never—glad to see you at last, sir.” I mentioned something about friends—hospitality—and detention. “Oh, yes, yes! I know all about that; the old story; yes, yes! but you must be quicker in your future movements—eh, Marchwell?” said he, turning to the adjutant; “_verbum sap._, you know, _verbum sap._” After a rather prolonged conversation, during which I informed him I had done duty with the Zuburdust Bullumteers, and gave him some account of his friend, Mr. Sympkin, which he was pleased to receive, I rose to take my leave. “Who are you with?” asked the colonel. I told him with Captain Marpeet. “Oh! my friend Marpeet, eh? Well, tell him to dine with me to-morrow, and bring you with him. I dine at six, and wait for nobody. Marchwell, Mr. Gernon will attend all drills, parades, and guard-mountings; we mustn’t let you forget what Colonel Lolsaug has taught you.” I soon became comfortably domiciled with my friend Marpeet, who introduced me to my brother-officers, and put me generally in the way of doing all that was requisite in the new scene in which I found myself.