and, in her agony, actually spit up her liver, which had been torn to pieces by the force of the poison!  The King could not stand the horrible sight, and ran off and hid himself in the race-stand, near which you fell and broke your thigh-bone in April last; there he remained shut up till she died.  He had had warning, sir, for a few months after his accession to the throne; I attended him and his minister, Aga Meer, on a visit to the garden, called padshah baag, on the opposite side of the river:  he had a gun with him, and, seeing a monkey on a tree, he ordered the prime minister to try his hand at it.  I told Aga Meer that evil would certainly befall him or his house if he shot the animal, and begged his Majesty not to assist upon the minister’s doing it.  Both laughed at what they thought my folly; the minister shot the monkey; and in a few days he was out of office and in a prison.  One way or other, sir, a man who wilfully destroys a monkey is sure to be punished.”

[* That Asgur Allee Khan, the eldest son of the King, Mahommed Allee Shah, did shoot the monkey, got a fever a few days after, and died of it, are facts well known at Lucknow.  That he often mentioned the monkey during his delirium, is generally believed; and that his death was the consequence of his shooting that animal is the opinion of all the Hindoo, and a great part of the Musulman, population.  His death, while his father lived, deprived his son, Moomtaz-od Dowla, of the throne.]

[** The Kooduseea Begum had been introduced into the palace as waiting-woman to Mulika Zumanee, whom she soon superseded in the King’s affections, which she retained till her death.  She was married to the King on the 17th December, 1831, and died on the 21st of August 1834.]

At Khyrabad there is a handsome set of buildings, consisting of a mausoleum over his father, a mosque, an imambara, and a kudum rusool, or shrine with the print of the prophet’s foot, erected by Mucka Durzee, a tailor in the service of the King, who made a large fortune out of his master’s favours, and who still lives, and provides for their repair and suitable endowment.  These buildings are, like all others of the same kind, infested by a host of professional religious mendicants of both sexes and all ages, who make the air resound with their clamours for alms.  Not only are such buildings so infested, but all the towns around them.  I could not help observing to the native gentlemen who attended me, “that when men planted groves and avenues, and built reservoirs, bridges, caravansaries, and wells, they did not give rise to any such sources of annoyance to travellers; that they enjoyed the water, shade, and accommodation, without cost or vexation, and went on their way blessing the donor.”  “That,” said an old Rusaldar, “is certainly taking a new and just view of the case; but still it is a surprising thing to see a man in this humble sphere of life raising and maintaining so splendid a pile of buildings."*