A berth was reserved for me by my friends in the same cabin as that of Sergt. Tryambakrai Mazmudar, the Junagadh vakil. They also commended me to him. He was an experienced man of mature age and knew the world. I was yet a stripling of eighteen without any experience of the world. Sergt. Mazmudar told my friends not to worry about me.

It was not a man at all, it was a guariba. Of all the prehensile-tailed monkeys which haunt the forests of the Upper Amazon the guariba is without doubt the most eccentric. Of sociable disposition, and not very savage, ...

The Ravels, after having played a successful engagement at the Metropolitan, closed last evening, and sail to-day for New-Orleans, and now we have no amusement but nigger minstrels and the horse opera—i.e., circus.

The attack on the abeam ship, Louisville, killed Commander Cruiser Division Four […]