lised mutton, and
so for the future save much waste of good meat; and moreover the lesson
once taught would not require to be repeated, and I have ever held it
expedient to accept every opportunity of learning to do anything, no
matter how unusual, which presented itself to be done; and so I followed
Abraham to the kitchen, when, with a towel closely pinned over my silk
dress, and knife in hand, I stood for a minute or two meditating
profoundly before the rather unsightly object which Abraham had pronounced
'de beautifullest sheep de missis eber saw.' The sight and smell of raw
meat are especially odious to me, and I have often thought that if I had
had to be my own cook, I should inevitably become a vegetarian, probably,
indeed, return entirely to my green and salad days. Nathless, I screwed my
courage to the sticking point, and slowly and delicately traced out with
the point of my long carving-knife two shoulders, two legs, a saddle, and
a neck of mutton; not probably in the most thoroughly artistic and
butcherly style, but as nearly as my memory and the unassisted light of
nature would enable me; and having instructed Abraham in the various
boundaries, sizes, shapes and names of the several joints, I returned to
S---- and her belles-lettres, rather elated upon the whole at the
creditable mode in which I flattered myself I had accomplished my unusual
task, and the hope of once more seeing roast mutton of my acquaintance. I
will confess to you, dear E----, that the _neck_ was not a satisfactory
part of the performance, and I have spent some thoughts since in trying to
adjust in my own mind its proper shape and proportions.

As an accompaniment to 'de beautifullest mutton de missis ever see,' we
have just received from my neighbour Mr. C---- the most magnificent supply
of fresh vegetables, green peas, salad, &c. He has a garden and a
Scotchman's real love for horticulture, and I profit by them in this very
agreeable manner.

I have been interrupted by several visits, my dear E----, among other, one
from a poor creature called Judy, whose sad story and condition affected
me most painfully. She had been married, she said, some years ago to one
of the men called Temba, who however now has another wife, having left her
because she went mad. While out of her mind she escaped into the jungle,
and contrived to secrete herself there for some time, but was finally
tracked and caught, and brought back and punished by being made t