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"
Under her direction, I took the stylus or pencil and the slip of
_tafroo_ she offered me, and wrote my name at the head. After
eliciting the exact purport of the message I desired to send, and
meditating for some moments, she wrote and read out to me words
literally translated as follows:--
"The rich aviary my flower-bird thought over full. I would breathe
home [air]. Health-speak." The sense of which, as I could already
understand, was--
"A splendid mansion has been given us, but my flower-bird has found it
too full. I wish for my native air. Prescribe."
The brevity of the message was very characteristic of the language.
Equally characteristic of the stylography was the fact that the words
occupied about an inch beyond the address. Following her pencil as she
pointed to the ciphers, I said--
"Is not _asny care_ a false concord? And why have you used the past
tense?"
This ill-timed pedantry, applying to Martial grammar the rules of that
with which my boyhood had been painfully familiarised, provoked, amid
all our trouble, Eveena's low silver-toned laugh.


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