e vapor. One of the guides went down into it a
little way, and brought us up some pieces of sulphur. The cinders were
so hot they burned our feet, and when we poked sticks into some cavities
they caught fire.

The thick vapor annoyed us so that we soon decided to go down. Just as
we were starting, the mountain gave a low, deep growl, and trembled
under us, so we were very glad to leave. It was great fun going down,
because the cinders were so loose that at each step we would slide a
long way. Part way down we caught a pale yellow butterfly that was
almost stifled by the sulphurous fumes.

When we reached the foot of the cone, we found we had been only twenty
minutes coming down, although it took us an hour and a half to go up. No
sooner had we arrived at the Observatory than we were surrounded by
crowds of ragged, beggarly looking men and boys, who insisted on
blacking our shoes, or pretended they had been guides, and tried to make
us pay them for things they had never done at all. We ordered them away,
but they kept on tormenting us, so we jumped into the carriage, and
drove off as fast as we could, leaving them all behind, shouting,
screaming, and wildly gesticulating.

Since I was there they have built a railroad up the mountain, but I
should not think it would be half so much fun to go up in the cars.

A LETTER FROM INDIA.

LUCKNOW, INDIA, _June 20, 1880_.

My Dear Friends,--My auntie has sent me several copies of HARPER'S YOUNG
PEOPLE, and I thought maybe you would like to know a little how we
children in India live. I don't know anything about your life except
what I read, and my mamma tells me, because I was born here. I am nine
years old, and in a little while we are going home. I say home because
mamma and papa do, but the only home I know is here, where it is so hot
sometimes it seems as if I should die. Last night mamma had to get up
and take a towel as wet as it could be, and rub my sheets with it,
before I could get to sleep at all, and if the punka stops a single
minute, it wakes me right up again. I read my letter to mamma so far,
and she says you won't know what a punka is. That is funny to me; but I
will tell you. They are very stiff cloth things fixed on frames, and
fastened to the ceiling so that they move, and by fanning the air keep a
breeze in the room all the time. There are holes in the wall, and ropes
put through the holes, and a man outside on the veranda pulls the ropes,
and k