a Fourth-of-July or Fair-Day booth strung out. There were whole streets of them. Everybody saluted me in broken English, but I let my eyes alone do duty. I walked where I chose, and it was not long before I got lost. All the streets look exactly alike and all queer. I did not much care what happened for a while, bound to see all I could. I came across many little temples, as I suppose, though I fancy most were only private dwellings, with niches in the walls for household deities. I have as yet seen none but the most innocent paintings on temples or house walls, nothing indecent, in all my ramblings. Black Town, the native part, is only about a mile in diameter, and I have wandered over a good portion of it.

But what amazed me most completely was a school that I happened upon. All my previous ideas were tame enough. It was gathered on the low mud veranda of a native house, and on the ground, sheltered from the road by a cane screen. I knew it at once by the din of voices, but oh the sight! The whole set of thirty or so were yelling out their lessons from blackboards. At one end sat the teacher, a man of about sixty, with silver-bowed goggles, and a piece of green leaf against his face to keep them from chafing, I judge. By his side stood a boy of about twelve, almost naked, his hair tied in a queue behind, reading out of a native printed book. As he saw me stop, he went at it with unusual energy, yelling so as to be heard a half a mile He stuck out his thick lips, drew in a tremendous breath and then let it out: it was perfectly deafening. His voice grew lower and lower till it sunk into a whisper, while he writhed his head and body to squeeze out the last bit. Then he began again, singing off the

away.

words. Once in a while the old man would stop him, and show him how, in exactly the same style, only his toothless mouth contrasted queerly with the shining ivories of his pupil. I stepped up and looked over. The old man was very polite and showed me the book, which turned out to be in Telegu. He grunted and I grunted back. Finding that I could get off a little Tamil, he sang out to somebody inside to come out, but I feared the consequences and beat a sudden retreat.

SATURDAY, June 29.

This evening I took a walk on Mount Road, leading to St. Thomas's Mount, the favorite drive. The English shops here are decidedly unique and are fine establishments. Many look like palaces, having long sweeping avenues leading up to them, with beautiful grounds about, containing twenty acres or more. The roads too are well macadamized and broad, so that an evening drive here along the sea-side, where the surf beats up ceaselessly, is decidedly refreshing after a hot day. The picturesque garb of the natives makes a pleasing addition to the scene. As I sat on a parapet by the road-side, a young girl came by and

seeing me stopped, stooped and made a gesture as if scooping up sand and putting it on her head; all gracefully done, and she went on her way. It is often done to you and strikes one very unpleasantly. The ordinary and only salutation that I have seen is touching the forehead and slightly bowing. At first I did not like it, but I think now it is nothing more than equivalent to our lifting or touching our hats. It seems humiliating, though, to pass as I did yesterday between two long lines of beggars, and have them bow their heads to the dust.

MONDAY, July 1.

Yesterday morning at seven o'clock I went to preach before breakfast in the Baptist chapel. There were about eighty present, mostly Anglo-Indians or Eurasians, as they are called, half foreign, half native. I preached extempore on the words, "Freely ye have received, freely give," a good text for me and my favorite. The audience was very attentive. One thing was Asian: punkahs were swinging everywhere. I used to have a very indefinite idea of what a punkah was. It is simply a narrow strip of board covered with cloth or painted, from which hangs, on the edge, a fringe of thick cloth. It is hung by long cords from the ceiling, and is pulled by a cord passing over a pulley in the opposite wall. In the church two long ones were swaying back and forth across the body of the church; four or five swung to and from me on each side-aisle, and one small one over my head. After service I came home, ate a hurried breakfast and went into Mr. Winslow's Tamil service. He preached on the fall of Jericho, and I made out to understand considerably well what was said. In this chapel the natives generally sit on seats like Europeans, but most of the children squat on the floor with two or three female teachers. The teachers are Christian, and it was a pleasant sight to see them, as they first sat down, bow with their faces to the ground toward the pulpit in silent prayer. Their quiet, pleasing faces bore the mark of Christian intelligence. But the little ones! They were disposed in two semicircular rows in front and looked demure enough, but some of the uncurbed ones rolled about, chuckled, kicked up their shiny feet and had a good time evidently. One little fellow, about

four years old, had a check jacket, but he clearly considered it an encumbrance, and was not satisfied till he had disrobed himself and crumpled up his jacket between his clenched fists. Several times during service a crow would perch on the window and haw! haw! most saucily. The singing is fully equal to the most orthodox music in New England. The only organ used was the nasal, and that was played on to perfection.

We had Monthly Concert at four P. M. Mr. Winslow asked me to speak — in Tamil, which I declined; by an interpreter, which I agreed to. But afterward I asked myself, Why not begin in Tamil to-day? It will do to tell of at least! So at meeting when Mr. Winslow introduced me, and Abraham came forward to interpret, I began in Tamil; he gave an involuntary oh! and retreated. I told them where I had come from and why I had come to them. A large part of my discourse consisted of the text of my morning sermon. I was rather flurried and hardly “raked an X,” as we should say at Williams. But I made a beginning and mean to keep it up. By the way, in what I said was a good illustration of the liability to mistake and egregious blunders under which a novice labors: after meeting I asked Mr. Winslow's servant if he understood me. "Yes," said he, "but what is kodai?" “A gift,” said I, or tried to say, but he could not quite comprehend. There is no good single word for gift; kodai is used and I took it when saying, "God has given me a gift." It is not a common word, but another, similar in sound, is common, viz: kudai, where the u is pronounced almost precisely like o, and which word means umbrella. He thought I said "God has given me an umbrella," and naturally was puzzled.

However he told me, laughing, that he was not going to talk English any more to me, and he does not. I heard of a more ludicrous mistake. A missionary in Bombay was discoursing most eloquently to a native assembly, and in the course of his speech hoped that the Lord would give them all an understanding; unfortunately the term for understanding closely resembles another of different meaning; and, blundering, he hoped that the Lord would give to all of them an old woman!

.

This morning I went to a book-store kept by an Englishman, where was a very good assortment of books, but, much to my relief, I found nothing which strongly tempted me. Coming to India gives me grace, I fancy, father. Down-town I bought a pith hat, covered with white cloth; when appearing in this, you might easily imagine that Robinson Crusoe stood before you. It is shaped like a washbowl, and fits to your head by a band, connected with the hat only by four supports, thus allowing a free circulation inside. Indeed the wind fairly howls about my head. . . . . I paid my palkee-bearers yesterday more than the usual price. When the chief man took it a half-rupee-he began to expostulate with me on the wretched pay. I marched off, whereupon, with a most contemptuous look, he flung the money on the ground. I paid no heed, but left him, and presume that he condescended to pick it up finally. Not long ago, a man bet with a new-comer that the latter would not pay his bearers enough to satisfy them. The man went to ride, and afterward paid the bearers four or five times the usual sum. With most profound bowings, the head-man begged of his honor to have compassion upon them, so