thout regard to sex, immediately divested themselves of all clothing
except a narrow cloth about the loins, and followed him into the
water. Here they proceeded to imitate his motions, just as pupils in
a calisthenic class follow the movements of their teacher, until the
ceremonies of purification were all accomplished.

[Illustration: GRAIN-AND-FLOUR MERCHANT OF PATNA.]

"A most villainous-faced penitent!" I exclaimed as one of their number
came out, and, as if wearied by his exertions, lay down near us on the
sand.

Bhima Gandharva showed his teeth: "He is what your American soldiers
called in the late war a substitute. Some rich Hindu, off somewhere
in India, has found the burden of his sins pressing heavily upon
him, while at the same time the cares of this world, or maybe bodily
infirmities, prevent him from visiting the Triveni. Hence, by the most
natural arrangement in the world, he has hired this man to come in his
place and accomplish his absolution for him."

Striking off to the westward from the Plain of Alms, we soon entered
the citadel of Akbar, which he built so as to command the junction of
the two streams. Passing the Lath (pillar) of Asoka, my companion led
me down into the old subterranean Buddhistic temple of Patal Pouri
and showed me the ancient Achaya Bat, or sacred tree-trunk, which its
custodians declare to be still living, although more than two thousand
years old. Presently we came to a spot under one of the citadel towers
where a feeble ooze of water appeared.

"Behold," said my friend, "the third of the Triveni rivers! This is
the river Saravasti. You must know that once upon a time, Saravasti,
goddess of learning, was tripping along fresh from the hills to the
west of Yamuna (the Jumna), bearing in her hand a book. Presently she
entered the sandy country, when on a sudden a great press of frightful
demons uprose, and so terrified her that in the absence of other
refuge she sank into the earth. Here she reappears. So the Hindus
fable."

On our return to our quarters we passed a verandah where an old
pedagogue was teaching a lot of young Mussulmans the accidence
of Oordoo, a process which he accomplished much as the "singing
geography" man used to impart instruction in the olden days when I was
a boy--to wit, by causing the pupils to sing in unison the A, B,
C. Occasionally, too, the little, queer-looking chaps squatted
tailor-wise on the floor would take a turn at writing the Arabic
ch