I took my 'Joe Manton' and went out. The youth showed
me some very good ground, and I found him an agreeable companion, and
an excellent shot with his matchlock. On our return we found the old
man waiting for us. He told me that he had four sons, all by God's
blessing tall enough for the Company's service, in which one had
attained the rank of 'havildar' (sergeant), and two were still
sepoys. Their wives and children lived with him; and they sent home
every month two-thirds of their pay, which enabled him to pay all the
rent of the estate and appropriate the whole of the annual returns to
the subsistence and comfort of the numerous family. He was, he said,
now growing old, and wished his eldest son, the sergeant, to resign
the service and come home to take upon him the management of the
estate; that as soon as he could be prevailed upon to do so, his old
wife would permit my sporting companion, her youngest son, to enlist,
but not before.
I was on my way to visit Fyzabad, the old metropolis of Oudh,[2] and
on returning a month afterwards in the latter end of January, I found
that the wheat, which was all then in ear, had been destroyed by a
severe frost.
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