There was a second prize, of a clock, which I could have _put up with_--but did not get it; and a third, of a looking-glass, which nobody wanted, and which Dr. D. won, and now he does not know what to do with it. I advise him to bring it home some dark night, and throw it into the valley behind his house. It may amuse the monkeys, who live there in tribes, and can be of no other use. No looking-glass in India has _much_ quicksilver, but this happens to have none at all, except a few slight streaks here and there. Saturday, Sept. 8. You cannot imagine how beautiful our weather is, since a storm on Wednesday, which cleared up the rains. Such nice clear air, and altogether it feels English and exhilarating; and I think of you, and Eden Farm, and the Temple Walk, and Crouch Oak Lane, and the blue butterflies, and then the gravel-pit, and your reading 'Corinne' to me; and then the later days of Eastcombe and our parties there, with G. V. in his wonderful spirits, with all his wit, and all the charm about him; and all this because the air is English. I _should_ like to go back to childhood and youth again--there was great enjoyment in them. Monday, Sept. 10. We had a large congregation yesterday, and an excellent sermon from Mr. Y., whose health, however, does not improve. I have made such a collection of drawings for the fancy sale--_really_ very good. I am sorry to say it, for it may sound vain, perhaps is vain; but I persist in thinking them good drawings, and I cannot help thinking you would buy some of them. Mrs. Chance, with her twins, came to visit Chance _père_ to-day. He was very polite to his wife, but could not endure the young puppies. I am not surprised, for they are nearly quite black, with a little white, but no tan, and with vulgar, greasy, smooth hair. However, they are only ten days old, and babies, as you know, alter rapidly. Thursday, Sept. 13. We had such a nice expedition yesterday afternoon; just the sort of thing your children would have enjoyed (only you never let them come out with me _now_). It was to see two waterfalls, and in Simla, where water is bought at great expense, we make much of a few pailfulls that fall gratis over a rock. The valley is about 3,000 feet below our house, very Swiss, and quite different from the hills--such large cedars, and here and there a little Swiss-looking cottage, with one door and no window. I always wonder _how_ ignorant of the ways of the world the inhabitants of these solitary valleys can be, and how such ignorance feels. No 'crafty boys,' no fashions, no politics, and, I suppose, a primitive religion that satisfies them. There are temples of great age in all these places. I imagine half these people must be a sort of vulgar Adams and Eves--not so refined, but nearly as innocent.