2 4 o EVERYDAY LIFE ON A 



paper, and the stamps all sticking together ; an 

 odour of mildew and must prevading every- 

 thing. Added to this, in the low country we 

 have no fireplaces, so we have patiently and 

 cheerfully to bide our time, until on the first 

 sunny day, we can turn all our goods and 

 chattels into the garden, where a few hours in 

 the dry air and sunshine makes everything 

 once more sweet and wholesome. 



The flying foxes, of which we had lately 

 such myriads, have now quite disappeared. I 

 suppose they have retired to their island home 

 in the river. 



February 3rd. — A flutter and a shudder 

 have passed through our little household. I 

 had just finished my afternoon tea in the 

 verandah, and was sitting watching the garden 

 coolie water the pot plants, when suddenly he 

 came to a dead stop in front of a stand of ferns, 

 about three yards from my chair, and took to 

 his heels without saying a word. I thought he 

 had become suddenly demented, but when he 

 returned a moment afterwards accompanied 

 by the other servants armed with sticks I 

 quickly took in the situation — A cobra no less ! 

 It lay between the pots of fern, darting up its 

 head, and shooting out its tongue at the 

 approach of its enemy. A gun was quickly 

 brought and the creature shot in the neck. 

 It was not killed, but wriggled on to the ground 



