e manufacture of pottery. In sheds made for the purpose
oil or sugar mills are being turned by bullocks, while in some few
villages is made that pretty red and gold lacquer-work we know so well
in England. Notice also the village blacksmith, who, with primitive
tools, hammers out those curiously shaped "dahs" and knives used by
the wood-cutters, while beside him, with equally simple implements,
the carpenter puts the finishing touches to the carved yoke of a
gharry.

In the streets the naked youngsters are playing at their games. Many
are like our own, and marbles, peg-tops, leap-frog or kite-flying
each have their turn, while in the ditches and puddles the boys hold
miniature regattas with their toy sailing-boats.

In the monastery or some private dwelling in the village the children
go to school, and as they become older some occupation employs their
time. While the boys are engaged with the cattle or about the boats,
the girls are occupied in cutting firewood in the jungle, or from the
pools in the forest collect the crude oil which they burn in their
lamps.

Roaming at will through the village are pigs and poultry, geese and
cattle, and the inevitable "pi dog" of the country. These dogs are
peculiar, being wild, yet attaching themselves to some particular
house, whose interests they seem to make their own, and which, by
vigorous barking, they make a pretence of guarding. In some villages,
also, the pigs, which are long-legged and fleet of foot, seem to act
in the same capacity, strongly objecting to the intrusion of
strangers, and even when riding my pony I have been attacked by them
and forced to retire.

During the day many of the villagers have been busy in the
rice-fields, for rice is their staple food and the only crop generally
cultivated; even infants of a day old are fed upon it, the rice being
first chewed by the mother, and each tiny mouthful washed down by a
few drops of water. Towards evening, when the tired cattle draw their
creaking carts homewards, the streets are thronged with the labourers
returning from their work, ready for the simple meal of rice and
"ngapi" their wives have prepared for them.

It is a simple, happy life which these villagers lead, graced by many
pretty customs of domesticity.

Rising with the sun, with it also they retire to rest, and as the last
sweet tones of many gongs from the village monastery proclaim the
close of their evening prayer the stockade-gates are closed,