A carpet is spread under a tree in the vicinity of the spot which the
Magistrate has chosen for his _darbar_, but far enough away from
bureaucracy to let the village idlers approach it should they feel so
inclined. In a very few minutes, as a rule, some of them begin to
edge up to it, and as they are generally small boys, they commence
nudging each other, whispering, and sniggering. The fancied approach
of a _chuprasi_, the 'corrupt lictor' of India, who attends at
every _darbar_, will however cause a sudden stampede; but after a
time these become less and less frequent, the wild beasts, as it were,
becoming tamer. By and by a group of women stop to gaze, and then the
question 'What do you want?' invariably brings the answer 'To see your
honour' (_ap ke darshan ae_). Once the ice is broken, the only
difficulties are, first, to understand your visitors, and secondly, to
get them to go away. When the general conversation is fairly started,
inquiries are made by degrees as to how many witches there are in the
village, or what cures they know for fever and the evil eye,
_etc_. At first these are met by denials expressed in set terms,
but a little patient talk will generally lead to some remarks which
point the villagers' minds in the direction required, till at last,
after many persuasions, some child begins a story, others correct the
details, emulation conquers shyness, and finally the story-teller is
brought to the front with acclamations: for there is always a
story-teller _par excellence_ in every village--generally a boy.

Then comes the need for patience, since in all probability the first
story is one you have heard a hundred times, or else some pointless
and disconnected jumble. At the conclusion of either, however, the
teller must be profusely complimented, in the hopes of eliciting
something more valuable. But it is possible to waste many hours, and