father as well as by my uncle, who was present at the time. A soldier’s life is one of continual change. I suppose, among its many charms, that of uncertainty is one of the greatest. We were quartered at Tralee, and in the full enjoyment of all the sport and hospitality which are the distinguishing features of that most charming quarter. I well remember one evening; we had had a first-rate run with the Chute fox-hounds, and it was late before I got back to my quarters. My room looked very comfortable, Illustrious Tom having made a fine fire of turf and coal mixed. Everything seemed so pleasant, and I daresay the thought entered my mind what a jolly season was before me. There were some letters on the table. One official-looking document I left to the last, believing it referred to some court-martial duty. However, at length I opened it and found a note from my commanding officer, regretting that he was obliged to forward the enclosed to me; which was an order from the Horse Guards for Captain Maxwell to proceed to join the head-quarters of the 88th Connaught Rangers at Barbadoes, West Indies. So my Irish campaign was over, and I had to say farewell to Tralee and all its charms, and to leave behind me not only my brothers-in-arms, but, among other treasures, Illustrious Tom and his fat wife. The steamer started from Southampton. We touched at Madeira, and, after a prosperous passage, cast anchor at Barbadoes. The head-quarters of the Connaught Rangers were ordered to Trinidad, four companies under my command to the Island of Grenada, and another detachment under Captain Bayley to St. Vincent. The 88th had suffered fearfully from that awful disease, yellow fever. Our much beloved Colonel Ormsby Phibbs had fallen a victim to it, and many men had lost their lives. Yellow Jack left us the moment we sailed from Barbadoes, and during the two years I was quartered at Grenada we had no hospital to speak of, and only one man died, a poor man who fell a victim to new rum. We got up a race meeting, open to all the islands in the West Indies. Captain Astley, 66th Regiment, brought a horse down from Barbadoes named Creole, and won everything with it. He was a very nice fellow, and we were all glad at his success, as it showed much sporting spirit to bring a horse to run at such a distance from where his regiment was quartered. The stakes he had won were all in dollars, and the bag he had to carry away was so large that Captain Astley asked me, as secretary and treasurer, to have the money sent to him through the Colonial Bank at Grenada. We said farewell to this gallant officer on board the steamer which was to take him back to Barbadoes. He was in great spirits, and apparently in excellent health. But, alas! the return steamer from Barbadoes, in a very few days, brought a letter from the paymaster of the 66th Regiment, telling the sad story that Astley was dead; yellow fever having carried him off.