Entrance To The Gardens.

A Bungalow In Ceylon.

The Fan Palm.

A Clump Of Bamboo.

We observed also with interest a specimen of bread-fruit, which in form resembles a melon, and weighs about three pounds. We learned that the trees which produce it bear fruit for nine months of the year, and that five or six of them will easily maintain a good-sized family. Here, too, we saw varieties of camphor and sweet-scented spice-trees. When the bark of the cinnamon tree was broken in our hands the odor from it was delicious; and when I plucked a genuine nutmeg and had cut it open, I realized how far I was from the State of Connecticut. My New York friend, however, was most elated when he had picked and tasted a fresh clove. "This," he exclaimed, "almost makes me homesick. It is the first time I ever ate a clove outside the Hoffman House!"

Bamboo Stems.

One of the most interesting objects to me in this garden was the famous sensitive plant, to which it seems almost impossible not to attribute feeling and intelligence, since, at the slightest touch on any part of it, the entire shrub contracts and shrinks from the intruder like a terrified child.

In the hotel at Kandy I was presented to Arabi Pasha, the Egyptian revolutionary leader who, in 1882, issued a proclamation to his countrymen, that he was inspired by the Prophet to free the country of its foreign rulers. He adopted for his motto "Egypt for the Egyptians." But though he made a desperate struggle to achieve the freedom of his countrymen, his forces were defeated by the British at Tel-el-Kebir, and he himself was taken prisoner. He was at first sentenced to death, but this punishment was commuted to that of perpetual exile, and he was sent to Ceylon. I found him to be a handsome, dignified man, very bitter in his feelings toward the British Government for having exiled him to this island, the climate of which he declared was totally unsuited to him. Within a few months, he said, he had been compelled to come from Colombo, where he had at first resided, to Kandy, in the hope of improving his health. "But life," he exclaimed, " has nothing more for me now. My country is enslaved, and I, alas! shall never look again upon the Nile."

A Sensitive Plant (Closed).

A Sensitive Plant (Open).

Breadfruit.

Leaving Ceylon and its botanic wonderland, we found ourselves, after a delightful jour-ney of three days, in the lovely harbor of Bombay. Those who can enter India at this point are fortunate. The first impressions of Calcutta are by no means so attractive. Calcutta, it is true, is called the "City of Palaces," but it is really Bombay that deserves the title, for it is not only the best built city in India, it is the finest modern city in the entire East. Even where the native population is in the majority there are many handsome residences, while its magnificent public buildings, built of finely decorated stone, are worthy to be compared with those of any European city, and its new railway station is probably the finest in the world.

An India -Rubber Tree.

In The Botanical Gardens, Kandy.

As we surveyed with admiration the noble structure known as the High Court, and other equally handsome specimens of architecture, we were reminded that one cause of Bombay's wealth was our own Civil War. Bombay grew rich when we were poor; for while our cotton crop was of necessity neglected, India controlled the markets of the world. It is true, her season of prosperity was of short duration, and the enormous profits then acquired now seem like fables of some golden age; nevertheless, Bombay then gained a great commercial impetus which she has never lost, and which the opening of the Suez Canal has made secure forever.