There is one thing, at least, which somewhat startles the new-comer to Southern India, with his Anglo-Saxon notions as to cleanliness and utility; and that is the estimation in which sharney (in plain English, cow-dung) is held by the people. A substance almost unmentionable to polite ears in America is here one of the staples of life, beauty, and cleanliness. Every morning the floors of the houses and verandahs are washed with a mixture of sharney and water. Has your neighbour been killing a sheep? Instead of soap and sand, he cleanses his hands with sharney. Do you, in your Christian defilement, sit awhile upon the piol (portico) in front of his house? sharney will remove the pollution. Does he contract uncleanness in any manner? sharney must wash it away. Is a floor newly paved? sharney must be scrubbed into it, to keep out the vermin. Is a bamboo moram (tray) bought by the turney-katchy for your rice, salt, and curry stuffs? it must be well rubbed with sharney before it is fit for use. Does the cow get a galled side? a plaster of sharney will cure it. In every street you see girls and poor women gathering sharney into baskets; beside their houses they knead it with chopped straw or chaff, and stick it in flat cakes
