ly and sensibly about losing my belt."

"Bother your old belt!" cried Glyn. "Who wants to talk quietly and
sensibly now? I came to bed to sleep, and every time I'm dozing off
nicely and comfortably you begin _burr, burr, burr_, and I can't
understand you a bit."

"I wish we were in India," said Singh angrily.

"I wish you were," growled Glyn.

"I should like to set a punkah-wallah to pick up a chatty of water and
douse it all over you."

"He'd feel very uncomfortable afterwards," said Glyn, "if I got hold of
him. Oh, bother! bother! bother!" he cried, sitting up in bed. "Now
then, preach away. What do you want to say about your ugly old belt?"

"Go to sleep," cried Singh, and there was a dull sound of Glyn's head
going bang down into the pillow, in which his right ear was deeply
buried while his left was carefully corked with a finger, and a minute
or two later nothing was heard in the dormitory but the steady restful
breathing of two strong healthy lads.

"What shall we do to-day; go out somewhere for a good walk?" asked Glyn
the next morning.

"No; I want to have a quiet talk. Let's go down to the jungle, as you
call it," said Singh.

"Thy slave obeys," cried Glyn. "But, jungle! poor old jungle! What
wouldn't I give for a ride on a good elephant again--a well-trained
fellow, who would snap off boughs and turn one into a _chowri_ to whisk
off the flies."

"Wouldn't old Ramball's Rajah do for you?"

"To be sure. I wonder what has become of the old boy. Roaming round
the country somewhere, I suppose. What a rum old chap he was, with his
hat in one hand, yellow silk handkerchief in the other, and his shiny
bald head. Yes, I wonder where he is."

"Ramballing," cried Singh, with a peculiar smile on his countenance; and
then he started in wonder, for Glyn made a dash at him, caught him by
the wrist, and made believe to feel his pulse in the most solemn manner.

"What are you doing that for?" cried Singh.

"Wait a moment," replied Glyn.--"No. Beating quite steadily. Skin
feels cool and moist."

"Why, of course," said Singh. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you must be ill to burst out with a bad joke like that."

"Oh, stuff!" cried Singh impatiently. "It's just as good as yours.
Yes," he continued thoughtfully, "it is very nice here; but I should
like another ride through the old jungle; and this old row of
elm-trees--pah! how different."

The two lads remained very thoughtful as they wal