A MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTEE. 
inside, by two nails and a string. Getting round to 
this hole, or window, a push is given ; it gives way 
about an inch, and will move no further, it is tied 
tight inside with a piece of string. Foiled again ! 
After some consideration^ we proceed to a corner 
of the verandah, where a lot of tools are lying, and, 
get hold of an old catti ; this is inserted into the 
opening of about an inch wide, and, after a good deal 
of sawing and tearing, the string ^s cut, the window 
flies open, and we jump in, mentally exclaim- 
ing, ‘‘Well, our troubles are over now,” but they 
are not. The moonbeams stream into the room through 
the open window, and sitting down on a solitary 
chair (we forget, whether or not it had only three 
legs, or if the back was broken, for it must have 
been either of these) commence to undress : this does 
not take long, we pop into bed, but there it is some 
one in possession, there can be no mistake about 
it, our bed is occupied ! We put out our hand along 
the pillow, and it comes into contact with a bushy 
head of hair ; the hand is passed down over the face, 
and passes over a good strong beard ; just then the 
moon throws a bright beam into the room through 
the open hole, which rests on the head of the bed, 
revealing to our astonished and indignant gaze, the 
well-known features of the boy — yes, the boy — our 
worthy servant, calmly and peacefully asleep in master’s 
bed, with, of course, master’s blankets, sheets and 
pillows. We S'ive him a shake, but he only gives a 
moan, and pulls the blanket over his head. We seize 
hold of his feet and pull him forcibly out of bed, 
upon which he, frantically shouts out ‘ ‘ Kalian, Kalian, ” 
(thieves, thieves). But our choler is now up. What 
insult to injury ! Shut out of our bungalow, our very 
bed taken possession of, and when we eject the 
invader are called a thief by our own servant! We pull 
the harder, “A nice boy you are to call your master 
a thief. We wonder who is the thief.” The boy 
catches hold of one of the bed-posts, down we both 
tumble on the mud floor, and the bed on top of 
us. The boy now changes his shout and cries out 
“Murder,” upon which we shake him up again, 
and assure him that we have not the most remote 
intention of murdering him, but that, when all the 
circumstances of this case are investigated, we will 
not promise the same assurance or immunity from 
a good licking, which, from present general aspect of 
affairs, we are under a firm conviction he most 
assuredly deserves. But the boy assures master, this 
is the very first night he has slept in his bed (? I), 
he goes down on his knees and swears it, and it was 
