We left Kurnaul yesterday morning. Little Mrs. J. was so unhappy at our going, that we asked her to come and pass the day here, and brought her with us. She went from tent to tent and chattered all day, and visited her friend Mrs. ----, who is with the camp. I gave her a pink silk gown, and it was altogether a very happy day for her, evidently. It ended in her going back to Kurnaul on my elephant with E. N. by her side, and Mr. J. sitting behind, and she had never been on an elephant before, and thought it delightful. She is very pretty, and a good little thing, apparently, but they are very poor, and she is very young and lively, and if she falls into bad hands, she would soon laugh herself into foolish scrapes. At present the husband and wife are very fond of each other, but a girl who marries at fifteen hardly knows what she likes. Paniput, Tuesday, Nov. 19. I am so tired of being always at Paniput; are not you tired of hearing of it? We are constantly dropping in there. There is one European living here, a Mr. ----, the image of Jenkins, the dancing-master, for which simple reason we have always liked him. He has no other striking merit, but there is a halo of 'Prince of Wales's step' and 'the slow movement' floating round him which is rather interesting. We went to see his gaol, two miles off, and the first shower of rain of the season chose to come just as we were half-way there, on the elephants. A howdah is a sort of open cage without a top, and nobody had thought of a cloak, so it was a pleasant expedition. Paniput has had several famous battles fought at, or near it, and there is a grand tradition of one battle where 200,000 men fought on each side, and four were left alive. That is something like fighting; but happily it is not true. Friday, Nov. 22. We have had two or three most uneventful marches, and Sergeant H., who goes on the day before, always sends back the same report, 'Road rough and very dusty,' or to vary it, 'Road very rough and dusty.' However, we are always able to ride half of the way, which is a great help. To-day we came over a wretched road and a bridge with one arch broken and no parapet, and as Sergeant H. reported, 'Bridge in a worse state, if possible, than last year; quite unsafe for the carriage.' After we come in to camp, we generally all sit in front of the tents and drink tea. The gentlemen come and ask for a cup and talk over the disasters of the road, and it is rather a gossiping time; particularly when enlivened by Mr. S., who is always like a sharp contradictory character in a farce, but before he has had his breakfast he is perfectly rabid. To-day he began as usual. 'How slowly you must have come.' 'The road was so bad,' I said. 'Yes, so everybody chooses to say. I thought it the best road we have had, much better than any of C.'s famous smooth roads.' 'Did you come safely over that bridge?'