Darjeeling. Sept. 28, 1848. My dear Bessy I was very much indeed gratified by your long letter, from various places during your trip; only one thing surprised me: you say nothing about poor old Grandpapa's friends at Exeter, nor does my Father. I suppose they are all dead or you could not find them; but I assure you I hurried on to the Exeter bit and read it twice in amazement. You certainly had a very fine and profitable cruize, how much I should have liked to be with you. I hope one day we shall have some trips together, as we had to Scotland, which, though so short, was very delightful. My life here is sufficiently monotonous to hear of, but far from so to me, my collections increasing very fast in deed, and never having a moment to spare. The rains prevent my taking long excursions, but they are now believed to be all but over. I have no incident to amuse you with, I fear, in return for all you tell me, without you care for what is domestic news to me : item, Hodgson is again poorly and I have been doctoring him successfully. He talks of accompanying me to the Snow, but I am sure he cannot bear the fatigues of the trip. item, my pony, as Hodgson calls it, was lent to the judge who came up here to judge a case of embezzlement, to take him part of the way back to the plains, and though Mr Grant keeps a stud of racers and is otherwise supposed to be a knowing Jockey, he has lamed the brute to my great annoyance. Hodgson being ill. I ride his just now, both are admirable ponies, and I am sure he has strained a back sinew by careless riding down hill.

Poor Barnes is come back for a month and gone to our old quarters, very lame from one of his excursions with me 3 months ago; his constitution is far from a healthy one. I got Campbell to see him - C. being the only one of 6 medical men here I trust much, but not liking to interfere with the practice of others. The doctor here was already beginning to make a mess of the thing when C. and I interfered; as I have got the credit of laming him I am very anxious for his recovery, besides he is an exceedingly amiable, good fellow, very active and a great tiger shooter.

‘[pencil note in l.h. margin]’ John Smith To his sister | Elizabeth | 28 Sept 1848 . item, We had such a stramash two or three Sundays ago. The Church is held in an immense room with a verandah about 12 yards broad and 20 long, projecting from the roof and supported on large brick pillars; it is roofed like the whole building with iron, thickly covered with Bamboo thatch which the rains had loaded with water. The Rev. W.Winchester was giving a very prosy discourse and saying that our prayers were not fervent enough to penetrate the clouds. which in this proverbially foggy atmosphere sounded rather odd, when the verandah gave way and fell down with a tremendous crash, the pillars flying all to pieces, and the whole affair settled against the windows, darkening the room and filling it with clouds of dust, lath and plaster. I was on the side close to it and watched for the wall coming in, which not being the case I stood it out, though not a little startled. The shrieks were loud enough and ladies and gentlemen fled like chickens, blocking the doors and leaving hats, prayerbooks, &c, behind. When I looked round there was only Mr Winchester at the altar, myself and another per

person in the room. Two Captains of the Bengal Army ! were amongst the first to bolt, and except Campbell not one came back. Except the hats in the verandah which were crushed, and an unfortunate blackie sitting there who got his turban flattened in with a good punch, no hurt was done. Poor Mrs Campbell first ran without her little girl and then rushed back for her, but had not far to go as Miss Pussy had wisely looked after herself. Luckily I had a cap which I was busy digging for and for my plaid in the rubbish when one of the Captains' wives came back for her husband's hat. I hardly know the people, but of course gave her my arm and took her with the hat to her husband, an ill-favoured, cadaverous looking man, as white as a ghost. I told him his wife had rescued his hat, which he clapped on his head (all full of lime and plaster) and tore away down to the village, first to Muller's (who is a dissenter and attends the chapel) announcing the news in most awfully exaggerated terms. To the other Captain I took his prayer book, and to many of the ladies who were huddled together in the rain outside. Winchester asked me to help him to get out the Communion plate, (it was Sacrament Sunday) and as I was thinking with admiration on the little man's coolness, the little goose asked me whether he should continue the service, rather a simple question, as the congregation were so much alarmed and there was only the open air and rain to resort to. So you see what a great stir a little fright makes. Did I ever tell you of my new acquaintance here ? Mrs O'Shaugnessy - (guess her nation) her husband is one if the most

scientific men in India, a good chemist and good fellow, holds a high office in the Mint and is Secretary to the Asiatic Society. "Groves of Blarney" are nothing to Mrs O's tongue. I do not like her, but in deference to O'S. both Hodgson and myself pay all attention to his Lady. She is a determined gossip and the Darjeeling folks seek to know something of Hodgson and myself through her. I call once a week and bamboozle the lady upon such subjects. O'S. has been most attentive and kind to me and, though gifted with too soft a tongue, (like his wife) I like him. She is here for her health and O'S. is coming up soon for a month's holiday. Campbell and I have become great friends and I am much pleased with the attention he has paid Barnes's leg. Mrs Campbell is a very lady-like, frank and pleasing person and great favorite of mine, and indeed the only lady here I ever see, barring the O'S. I always dine with them whenever I feel inclined and C. is very anxious that I should stay with them, but I am too comfortable here where my time is all my own, where I never see a visitor, have all my plants and papers, instruments &c., around me. Had Campbell shown me any such attention when I arrived I should have/been only too thankful, but how he could have been so thoughtless and blind and deaf to all my wants and wishes I can still hardly understand. Hodgson, with whom he lived for 25 years, however, knows his character intimately and attributes it all to mental confusion or perturbation of some sort. Certainly no one could be kinder than C. has been latterly. He is a Skye man - no, not Skye, but where dear Mac: comes from - and his father was factor to Campbell of Isla, or

some such thing. Mrs C. married very young and has four children, the eldest, Helen, alias "Pussy", is six, and by the same token I had to give her a birthday present the other day; a very plain but very clever, nicely brought up little girl. The second, a splendid boy, rejoices in the sobriquet of Toogroo, whence obtained no one knows, not even his mother, his real name is Archy. Emma, the third, is my pet and the most beautiful child I ever saw; though very shy generally with strangers, it took from the first to me and we are great friends. I came in late from an excursion the other day and dined at Campbell's; in the evening they went to a Lecture on Astronomy by a schoolmaster here. Mrs C. exerted all her eloquence to persuade me to go, (but you might as well/, try to get me to walk in the garden in the morning) first I disliked the Lecturer, a Mr. Grissenthaite, an ignorant, uppish fellow; secondly I grudged 8/-, the price of a ticket and thirdly I have a perfect antipathy to lectures of all sorts. So after seeing Mrs C., Pussy and Toossoo safe there I rode back to Hodgson's, having done my best to persuade "Pussy" to ask the learned Professor to shew a "rabbit on the wall" as I do. Next day I had particulars from Mrs C., which were sufficiently amusing. My friend, Lieut. Staples, who I told you asked to chum with myself and Barnes when we lived at the old place 3 months ago, was there. He is a goodnatured but far from wise man, and it being after dinner, he was in an ambiguous state I suppose, for first he fell asleep till the lecturing part was over and, there being no backs to the forms, was always bumping back into somebody's lap. Mr G. concluded with a Camera

obscura, or Magic Lantern, and shewed first the Nebulæ in Orion. Staples being an Irishman, on hearing this awoke with "Oh, that's Ned O'Brien is it ? fine fellow Ned - I know him very well; not very like though". Next the Mts of the moon were shewn. "How do you know they are Mountains"? said my friend. "They have been measured", answered the Professor. "Quite a fallacy" said Staples, "Who measured them ? the man in the moon I suppose". Then came the ''Great Bear", but owing to some flaw in the glass, there was a long plume stuck in the Bear's neck, when Pussy, to poor Mrs C's horror, called out, "Pray Mr G., why does the Great Bear carry pen and inkstand on his back ?" Poor Toossoo slept through all and being roughly awoke at the end and feeling himself bound to acknowledge the efforts to gratify, did so by saying aloud, "How funny" Mrs C., who is a quiet simple person, attributes Stæpies' Staples' eccentricities to Irish wit, but I know better I think; and poor Pussy and Toossoo are suitably admonished. This my dear Bessy is my 3 months batch of fun; a poor stock, you will say, but except Hodgson's political and other anecdotes I have no stories to tell. I do not find travelling alter my habits in any ons one way. I get up at 6, but hate it and equally hate going to bed at night. As it darkens at 6 I have fine long evenings for study. Hodgson and I live like brothers exactly, though he is a good deal older than I am. He is the most valuable acquaintance I could have made in India - too proud and haughty, but I do not feel that.

Now dear Bessy, I have not written such an unbotanical yarn for months, I am sorry it is so egotistical.
Your most affectionate Brother.| Jos.D.Hooker.
Many thanks for all your kindness to Frances. I wrote to her to day a long letter. The curious beasts I told you of both died, either of poison or in teething. We are very sorry.