'Because,' said the conservative Hindu, 'I have become so accustomed
to the noise that I can only sleep soundly while it is going on: when
it stops, then I wake, and knowing from the cessation of the sound
that my bullock-driver is neglecting his duty, I go out and beat him.'
Thus, even the conservation of the useless comes in time to create
habits which are useful."

"It is true," I replied, "and it recalls to me a somewhat unusual
illustration. A summer or two ago a legal friend of mine, who is the
possessor of a large family of children, came into the court-room one
morning with very red eyes, and to my inquiry concerning the cause
of the same he replied: 'To tell you the truth, I can't go to sleep
unless a child is crying about the house somewhere; but my wife left
town yesterday for the summer with all the children, and I haven't had
a wink the whole night.'"

A drive of some five hours brought us to Mattra after dark, and as we
crossed the bridge of boats over the sacred Jumna (the _Yamuna_ of the
Sanscrit poems) he seemed indeed thrice holy, with his bosom full
of stars. Mattra, which lies immediately on the western bank of the
river, stands next to Benares among the holy cities of the Hindus:
here both the soil and the river-water are consecrated, for this was
the birthplace of Krishna, or, more properly speaking, the scene of
that avatar of Vishnu which is known as Krishna. When we rose early in
the morning and repaired to the river-bank, hundreds of the faithful
were ascending and descending the numerous ghâts leading down the high
bank to the water, while a still more animated crowd of both sexes
were standing up to their middle in the stream, throwing the water in
this direction and that, and mingling their personal ablutions with
the rites of worship in such a way as might at once clean both