the fashion of the tale told by an idiot,

"Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

Presently we became so much irritated by the ceaseless row that we decided
to sit down and read and sketch by the roadside, in order to let the whole
mournful train pass out of sight and earshot.

Now, I wish to maintain in all seriousness that I am not a Legree, and
that, although I by no means hold the "man and brother" theory, yet I am
perfectly prepared to respect the _droits de l'homme_.

This may appear a statement inconsistent with my acknowledgment that I
permitted coolies to be beaten--the beating being no more than a
technical "assault," and never a "thrashing!"--but my contention is that
when you have to deal with people of so low an organisation that they can
only be reached by elementary arguments, they must be treated absolutely
as children, and judiciously whacked as such.

No Kashmiri without the impulsion of _force majeure_ would ever do any
work--no logical argument will enable him to see ultimate good in
immediate irksomeness.

It is very difficult for the Western mind to give the Kashmiri credit for
any virtues, his failings being so conspicuous and repellent; for not only
is he an outrageous coward, but he feels no shame in admitting his
cowardice. He is a most accomplished thief, and the truth is not in him.
He and his are much fouler than Neapolitan lazzaroni, and his morals--well,
let us give the Kashmiri his due, and turn to his virtues. He is, on the
whole, cheerful and lively, devoted to children, and kind to animals.[1]

Here is a story which is fairly characteristic of the charming Kashmiri.

During the floods which nearly ruined Kashmir in 1901, a village near a
certain colonel's bungalow was in danger of losing all its crops and half
its houses, the neighbouring river being in spate. My friend, on going to
see if anything could be done, found the water rising, and the adult male
inhabitants of the village lying upon the ground, and beating their heads
and hands upon it in woebegone impotence.

He walked about upon their stomachs a little to invigorate them, and,
sending forthwith for a gang of coolies from an adjacent village which lay
a little higher, he set the whole crowd to work to divert part of the
stream by means of driftwood and damming, and was, in the end, able to
save the houses and a good part of the crops.

When the hired coolies came to be paid for their labour, the villagers