That was sufficient; I was determined to have it, and after an eager bid or two, it was knocked down to me. I found afterwards, however, to my extreme surprise and dismay, I had unconsciously purchased a lot of three dozen of them, enough to set up a cutler’s stall in a small way. There was no help for it, however; I was obliged to take them all, though I determined in future to study well the catalogue before I ventured on a bid. The dogs, I found, had attracted the particular notice of more sportsmen than myself. A young ensign from Barrackpore carried off the greyhound hitch for Rs. 200, a little more than a month’s pay. A writer in the buildings bought the French mastiff and the terrier, which went high, and I was obliged to content myself with one of the bull-dogs, a sinister-looking old fellow, with one eye, who went cheap, and would have been cheaper still, had not Grundy, whom I requested to secure it, bidden silently against me in the crowd several times before I had providentially discovered my opponent. Poor beast! he died three months after, on my way up, of _nostalgia_, I rather think, and I gave him decent sepulture on a spit of sand in the Ganges. From the auction we proceeded to the China bazaar. “Grundy,” said I, as we went along, rather _nonchalamment_, “you need not say anything to Captain Marpeet, about my buying those knives.” “What knives?” he asked. “I have my reasons for it,” said I, “that’s enough.” Grundy promised to be mum. The China bazaar! What Bengalee, military man in particular, who does not know that attractive resort—that repository of temptations! What a host of pleasant recollections it is calculated to revive! This place is situated at the back of Tank Square, and is enclosed by walls, and entered by gates, at several points. The shops are in long flat-roofed ranges, generally of (I believe) two stories, intersecting each other at right angles; a margin of terrace, a foot or two from the ground, runs along the front of the several shops or stores. Sheltered here and there by an eave or thatched projection, seated in chairs, cross-legged, and in other un-English attitudes, quite at their ease, and smoking their pipes, the baboos, or shopkeepers, may be seen, each opposite his emporium, into which they invite the numerous visitors to the bazaar to enter, assuring them they will find everything they may want “chip,” and of the first quality.