My most intimate friends were of the Ayah's complexion.

We had more than one "bearer" during those years, to whom I was greatly attached.

I spoke more Hindostanee than English.

The other day I saw a group of Lascar sailors at the Southampton Station; they had just come off a ship, and were talking rapidly and softly together.

I have forgotten the language of my early childhood, but its tones had a familiar sound; those dark bright faces were like the faces of old friends, and my heart beat for a minute, as one is moved by some remembrance of an old home.
When my mother went out for her early ride at daybreak, before the heat of the day came on, Ayah would hold me up at the window to see her start.