smell the fragrant breezes and spicy odours of Ceylon.  We made the eastern side of the island at daylight, and coasted along its palm-fringed shores all day.  I had been very unwell for some days past, but this delightful indication of our near approach to the land seemed to do me good at once.  If only the interior is as beautiful as what we can see from the deck of the yacht, my expectations will be fully realised, brilliant as they are.

As the sun set, the beauty of the scene from the deck of the yacht seemed to increase.  We proceeded slowly, and at about nine o’clock were in the roads of Galle and could see the ships at anchor.  Tom did not like to venture further in the dark without a pilot, and accordingly told the signal-man to make signals for one, but being impatient he sent up a rocket, besides burning blue lights, a mistake which had the effect of bringing the first officer of the P. and O. steamship ‘Poonah’ on board, who thought perhaps we had got aground or were in trouble of some sort.  He also informed us that pilots never came off after dark, and kindly offered to show us a good anchorage for the night.

Thursday, March 29th.—­The pilot came off early, and soon after six we dropped anchor in Galle harbour.  The entrance is fine, and the bay one of the most beautiful in the world.  The picturesque town, with its old buildings, and the white surf dashing in among the splendid cocoa-trees which grow down to the water’s edge, combined to make up a charming picture.  We went on board the ‘Poonah’ to breakfast as arranged, and afterwards all over the ship, which is in splendid order.  Thence we went ashore to the Oriental Company’s Hotel, a most comfortable building, with a large, shady verandah, which to-day was crowded by passengers from the ‘Poonah.’  At tiffin there was a great crowd, and we met some old friends.  At three o’clock we returned to the yacht, to show her to the captain of the ‘Poonah’ and some of his friends, and an hour later we started in two carriages for a drive to Wockwalla, a hill commanding a splendid view.  The drive was delightful, and the vegetation more beautiful than any we have seen since leaving Tahiti, but it would have been more enjoyable if we had not been so pestered by boys selling flowers and bunches of mace in various stages of development.  It certainly is very pretty when the peach-like fruit is half open and shows the network of scarlet mace surrounding the brown nutmeg within.  From Wockwalla the view is lovely, over paddy-fields, jungle, and virgin forest, up to the hills close by and to the mountains beyond.  There is a small refreshment-room at the top of the hill, kept by a nice little mulatto woman and her husband.  Here we drank lemonade, ate mangoes, and watched the sun gradually declining, but we were obliged to leave before it had set, as we wanted to visit the cinnamon gardens on our way back.  The prettiest thing in the whole scene was the river running through the