ETTAIAH. 
Ill 
“ Peace, my Son,” said I to the old man, who was 
grey enough for my grandfather, “ you appear to be en- 
joying the freshness of the evening breeze. These are 
handsome ghats ; your town appears to he rising anew 
from its dusty ruins. Are there any relics within par- 
ticularly worthy of the inspection of a foreigner ? ” 
“ Protector of the poor, you may well say that the 
air is cool ; hut how can I be enjoying it P You are 
from the west, and love these chilly winds ; you are 
young, and the piercing air only braces your frame. 
Alas ! behold me ; youth and activity have flown, and 
I have nothing wherewith to preserve vital warmth in 
my frame but this tattered blanket, which is a poor 
substitute for vigour and warm blood : but it has 
pleased God to inspire me with infinite fortitude ; or 
perhaps I may say that I have myself acquired it, 
during a long life of hardship and exposure.” 
Why, my friend, you must indeed be a chilly 
mortal ; the air is yet glowing with the noon’s heat.” 
“ Great Sir, you were pleased to enquire of your 
slave if there be any thing worth seeing in our city. 
Why do you apply to me about such toys as these ? 
Such trifles I regard not ; I am an aged man, and now 
mine eyes are incessantly turned towards Heaven. If 
there has ever been any thing in our land worth covet- 
ing, you English gentlemen have stripped us of it ; 
you have sacked our coffers, and have glutted your- 
selves with our treasure.” 
“ Come, come, my Son, you judge us harshly : we 
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