these.  The Boadicea, however, had been two years in commission, the flannels were two years old, and the lads were just at the age when they were growing most rapidly.  They squeezed themselves with great difficulty into their shrunken garments, which looked more like tights than trousers, every button and seam obviously strained to the bursting point, and set to work playing tennis with their accustomed vigour.  Soon there was a sound of rending cloth, and the senior midshipman, a portly youth of Teutonic amplitude of outline, lay down flat on his back on the lawn.  A minute later there was a similar sound, and another boy lay down on his back and remained there, and a third lad quickly followed their example.  A charming lady had noticed this from the verandah above, and ran down in some alarm, fearing that these young Nelsons had got sunstrokes.  Somewhat confusedly they assured her that they were quite well, but might they, please, have three rugs brought them.  Otherwise it was impossible for them to move.  With some difficulty three rugs were procured, and, enveloped in them, they waddled off to their bungalow to assume more decent apparel.  A few minutes later there were two more similar catastrophes (these garments all seemed to split in precisely the same spot), and the supply of rugs being exhausted, these boys had to retreat to their bungalow walking backwards like chamberlains at a Court function.  After luncheon, in the burning heat of Bengal, most sensible people keep quiet in the shade, but the midshipmen went off to inspect the great tank, and to decide how they should drag it.

Soon we heard loud shoutings from the direction of the tank, and saw a long string of native servants carrying brown chatties of hot water towards the pond.  We found that the courteous House-Baboo had informed the midshipmen that the holes in the banks of the tank were the winter rest-places of cobras.  It then occurred to the boys that it would be capital fun to pour hot water down the holes, and to kill the cobras with sticks as they emerged from them.  It was a horribly dangerous amusement, for, one bad shot, and the Royal Navy would unquestionably have had to mourn the loss of a promising midshipman in two hours’ time.  When we arrived the snake-killing was over, and the boys were all refreshing themselves with large cheroots purloined from the dining-room on their behalf by a friendly kitmutgar.  The dragging of the tank was really a wonderful sight.  As the net reached the far end it was one solid mass of great shining, blue-grey fish, of about thirty pounds weight each.  The most imaginative artist in depicting the “Miraculous Draught of Fishes” never approached the reality of Barrackpore, or pictured such vast quantities of writhing, silvery finny creatures.  They were a fish called cattla by the natives, a species of carp, with a few eels and smaller fish of a bright red colour thrown in amongst them.  I could never have believed that one pond could have held such incredible