h generally lie
pell-mell in every corner where the listless, toy-satiated child may
have thrown or kicked them.

"The quantity of inner and outer garments worn by a little girl in
England would render it extremely fatiguing to change the dress so
often as our little ladies are required to do in India. Miss Louisa's
attire consisted of a single garment, a frock body without sleeves,
attached to a pair of trousers, with rather a short, full skirt
gathered into the body with the trousers, so as to form one whole, the
whole being ruffled with the finest jindelly, a cloth which is not
unlike cambric, every ruffle being plaited in the most delicate manner.
These ruffles are doubled and trebled on the top of the arm, forming
there a substitute for a sleeve; and the same is done around the ankle,
answering the purpose almost of a stocking, or at least concealing its
absence. Fine coloured kid shoes ought to have completed this attire,
but it most often happened that these were kicked away among the
rejected toys.

"How many times in a day the dress of Miss Louisa was renewed, who
shall say? It, however, depended much upon the accidents which might
happen to it; but four times was the usual arrangement, which was once
before breakfast, once after, once again before tiffin, and once again
for the evening airing. The child, being now nearly seven years old,
was permitted to move about the house independently of her ayah; thus,
she was sometimes in the hall, sometimes in the veranda, sometimes in
one room, sometimes in another. In an Indian house in the hot season no
inner door is ever shut, and curtains only are hung in the doorways, so
that this little wild one was in and out and everywhere just as it hit
her fancy. She had never been taught even to know her letters; she had
never been kept to any task; she was a complete slave of idleness,
restlessness, and ennui. 'It is time for Louisa to go to England,' was
quietly remarked by the parents; and no one present controverted the
point."

Children like this must have made the good Mrs. Sherwood very unhappy;
her own little ones--of whom she had three who lived to come home to
England--were very differently brought up. She had also a lovely little
boy named Henry, and a little fair-haired Lucy, who both died in India
before they were two years old.

It would be impossible to end even this short sketch of Mrs. Sherwood's
Indian life without mentioning her friendship with Henry