260 TO DAKJILING : FIEST HIMALAYAN JOUENEY 

 A better opportunity, however, came before long (August 9) : 



Falconer has kindly sent me four cases of books, soldered 

 in tin, by Post free ! This is the only way of getting them 

 safely now. They are De CandoUe, Walpers, Kunth, and 

 Eoyle. This w^eek of hooks and plants has been perfect 

 revelry. I find that my Ehododendrons are nearly all 

 (perhaps they all are) new. 



' My life here,' he tells his sister (September 28), ' is suffi- 

 ciently monotonous to hear of, but far from so to me, my 

 collections increasing very fast indeed, and never having a 

 moment to spare.' Except for recording barometer, ther- 

 mometer, wind and weather every hour, all the dayUght 

 hours were spent in writing and drawing and arranging plants. 

 The plants generally came in at eight or nine in large baskets 

 on men's backs. These Hooker always ticketed himself with 

 the native name and any known quality or use, laying aside 

 those he wished to draw and examine, and giving the rest 

 over to be dried and the roots to be packed in moss. The 

 perpetual wet forbade much going out. A recorded rainfall of 

 twenty-one inches in July was perhaps nothing much for India, 



but it is like the difference between Glasgow and Edinburgh 

 which I could never make Papa believe, that Edinburgh has 

 more rain than Glasgow, though in the latter it is expended 

 in a constant drizzle, in the former in a few downright showers. 



Yet his health was perfect, ' living so regular a life in so 

 salubrious a vile climate, far worse than Glasgow,' and ' here, 

 in this dear delightful double-distilled Greenock fog, we know 

 not what a headache is.' 



Scottish recollections happily fill in the picture of Sunday 

 morning at Darjiling which he draws for his sister Elizabeth 

 (August 9, 1848) : 



There is a church here but out of repair and the Parson, 

 who is a visitor, gives service in a large room. This reminds 

 me of Helensburgh, the majority of the congregation being 

 made up of salt water looking people with faded bonnets 

 and thick shoes ; very few people attend, including a school 



