estivals they generally manage to come
out in silks.

Come round now to the back of the shrines that line the platform on the
outer side, here there is another open space, and on it are bells as
large as church bells; they hang between two posts. Take up one of those
deer's horns lying beside that one and stroke it hard. It gives out a
clear musical note. Try now the piece of wood, that sounds different.
Everyone who passes stops to strike one or the other of the bells, they
want to call the attention of the "good nats," or spirits, to the fact
that they are at the pagoda! In this shed is an enormous bell large
enough to hold half a dozen men. I don't think you'll be able to make
much effect with a deer's horn on that. It is the third largest in the
world, and once was in the bottom of the Rangoon River, for the English
were carrying it away when it toppled over and sank. Engineers tried to
raise it, but failed, because of its enormous weight; but the Burmans,
after some time, were allowed to try, and somehow managed to succeed,
and not only so, but they hauled it right up here! It does look as
though there were something weird about its positive refusal to be
carried away!

Along the edge of this part of the pagoda are a number of wooden
platforms raised a foot or two from the ground, for the use of those who
come from long distances, and on them many families are lying or
sitting. On one sits a tiny boy with a quizzical intelligent little
face. His top-knot sticks up like an out-of-curl feather. Beside him is
a still smaller mite who cannot be more than two; he has little silver
bangles on his fat wrists and ankles, and a strip of cotton rolled round
his dumpy body, while papa and mamma and numerous aunts are seated on
the platform behind gravely smoking.

[Illustration: ON THE PLATFORM OF A PAGODA.]

I stop to light a cigarette close to this family, and in an instant the
elder lad holds out his hand timidly. Just to see what he will do I give
him a cigarette; he takes it with a self-possessed courtesy and looks at
me, politely waiting for a light. I hand him the box and he strikes a
match and bows a little as he returns it; even the children have
excellent manners. Drawing in a great whiff of smoke he sends it out
through his little round nose in keen enjoyment. But the fat baby has
suddenly become alive to what is going on, and crawling on the top of
his brother clamorously demands a smoke more loudly than if he