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tom of that well was a god, and that he wanted to be brought up and worshipped. So they called a great crowd of people together, had a feast, said prayers, and then sent some one down into the well. Down he went, and after a time came back, bringing, to be sure, the god with him. Then the people shouted out, and said that the god must have a temple on that very spot. So they set to work, the people giving money; and the building I saw was the temple which they put up for this god.

Since I began this letter, I have been out with some other missionaries, to preach to the heathen in another place. On the way back I saw what was a new sight to me. Under a large tree were some idols; all around the tree were swings made of wood, hung upon wooden frames about six feet high. What, think you, were they for? they were put there for the gods to swing on! Every dark night, say the people, when the wind blows high, the gods come out and have a swing; we can't see them, because it is dark, but we can hear the swings creak as they sway back and forth.

Now I must stop; but what have I written this long letter to you for? can you answer? Because you promised me that if I would write you three or four times a year, you would give enough money to keep a Christian school. In these schools the children will be taught not to bow down to stones, but to the living God. Do you not think that they need to be taught this?

I have not told you about these schools yet, because I had so much else to write about. In my next letter I shall try to. And now don't forget your pennies,

and when you drop them into the contribution-box, wrap each one up in a prayer to God that He will make them do good for the little heathen children in India.

Your affectionate friend,

DAVID C. SCUDDER.

CHAPTER XI.

JOURNEY FROM MADRAS TO MADURA.

[16 JULY-10 AUGUST, 1861.]

[THE district in which the missionaries were to be established was that of Madura, farther down the peninsula, and whose chief city with the name of the district is about three hundred miles distant from Madras. By taking a route somewhat circuitous they could avail themselves of the railway as far as Salem, about a hundred and seventy miles from Madras, and visit on the way the Vellore Mission. Mr. Webb and family travelled with them as far as his own station at Dindigal. The narrative of the journey is contained as usual in his journal. The first date is the fourth day from Madras.]

[JOURNAL LETTER.]

Mallur, Government BunGALOW, July 19.

We set off on Tuesday the 16th for Madura via the Scudders at the Arcot Mission. Of course this involved a temporary surrender of our Orientalism, as the only way to get there is by rail; we left at 3 P. M. and reached Vellore at 8.30 P. M.; the distance is about eighty miles over a flat tame country, the only thing noticeable being the occasional ricefields and the more frequent temples. Vellore is well known in Anglo-Indian history as the seat of what is called the Vellore Mutiny of 1808, when the garrison

was murdered. We reached Silas Scudder's at ten, had supper and went to bed. The Scudders all have a punkah pulled over them during the nights of the hot season, and so the man began on us. It was really so cool that we did n't need the new breeze, so I went out and said to the man, Vendâm. Po! Most invaluable words are these, which I would advise every new-comer in India to commit to memory as his first lesson in Tamil. Vendâm. Po! that is, "Don't want. Go!" So I said "Don't want. Go!" to the punkah-man. He looked rather disconcerted, but I turned in. I heard the grunt which every native uses when he wants your notice. The punkah-man was back and said, "Master hired punkah for the night." Not wishing to have a bother and cheat the man out of his wages I let him pull, and pull he did all night. Think of it, what an intellectual operation. It was really too cold, and waking every once in a while, there was the punkah swinging over our heads; - it was oppressive to think of that man.

Soon

About eight o'clock in the morning I made out to take a breath and a walk, my first walk in the country. The garden, or compound, as they call it here, is full of large mango-trees, somewhat like our apple-trees, but larger and more beautiful. I wandered about breathing in huge mouthfuls of the delicious morning air. Butterflies flitted about; bugs of every color crawled ; lizards kept dodging round the trees. As I was going along a path I was stopped by a crowd of black ants; they were travelling back and forth on an ant-road as if on some matter of life and death. I watched them awhile and then tried to trace their way. One end I could not find, the other I found in a hole. It looked

as if a big colony were migrating. I amused myself a long while in stopping up the hole, laughing at their bewilderment and wondering at their pertinacity.

The next day we took the cars again at 10.30 A. M. The ride was delightful, through a country that reminded us of Vermont, the way lying between ranges of high hills, giving us now and then beautiful reaches of rice-fields of varying shades and growth and rich foliage. Salem we reached at last; Salem is a pure Tamil word. I jumped out, and the first thing that caught my eye was what I thought must be my bandy. It proved to be, and as I am in a favorable position, sitting with my feet on the wheels, let me describe it. It is called a box-bandy, and well called so. H. says it looks most like the "Black Maria" [prisoncart, so called, in Boston]. You enter by a step behind, cab-like. Inside, it is arranged nicely: the blinds let down all around, above the wheels; there are two seats, one at each end; the sides are lined with cane; a cane seat, movable, also falls down from each side, so as wholly to cover the empty space, thus making a good place for a mattress. The bandy is about five feet ten inches, by three feet six inches. A slide lifts up so as to give the space under the driver's seat to stow away your feet in. All the room is well taken up with boxes, leather cups and straps; a side-board outside keeps off mud and dirt. The color is dark brown, and the whole affair is well finished off. With a good pair of little bullocks I can hold up my head with anybody. To be sure it jolts and jerks, very much like a chaise of home make, but it is decidedly comfortable, comparatively.

We found bullocks awaiting at the station, which is

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