turban, and, with womanly deftness of hand, wrap it gracefully round his head, after which they send him away. It must not, however, be supposed that the herdsboy in any single instance submits himself a willing recipient of the unsought honours so lavishly conferred upon him. If he can escape before capture, escape he will, and in that case, leaving his cattle in the wilds, he runs to his own village and summons out all the women thereof, who, arming themselves likewise with their churning-s ticks, issue forth in a body, with loud cries and threatening gestures, to repel the invaders, when it often happens that a free fight ensues, and that hard blows are given and taken on either side.
Another most singular custom during these trying seasons is that the boys should collect cow-dung and other objectionable rubbish and concoct a vile liquid by mixing the ingredients in a large vessel with an ample supply of water from the cattle-pond. Observing the greatest possible care and moving in profound silence they now proceed to the hut of the village saint, some priest or synd or fakir, and creeping quietly behind him as he sits in the shade mumbling over his beads, they pour their diabolical compound over the good father's head, and then run for their lives. This ceremony, for some mysterious reason which I cannot divine, is considered an excellent means either of propitiating the favour of Heaven or of exciting the provident fears of the fakir.
There is another custom analogous to the foregoing, though far more simple and cleanly, which consists in sprinkling a fakir with water as he lies asleep so that he may dream of cool showers and that his dreams may come to pass.
Again the whole community may set to work with zeal begotten of self-interest and stimulated by the consciousness of loss to repair the dilapidated tombs of the saints, and bewailing their neglect, or the men of the village will solemnly retire to the fields, and kneeling in two rows after the customary manner when engaged in prayer implore the Almighty to gather the clouds from afar.
The prettiest custom of all perhaps is that in which the elders make up sweet sherbet or other refreshing draughts, and calling together the little innocent children from all sides distribute the agreeable
