earnings being from the sale of her goats'
milk, flowers, and fruit, to wayside travellers.
She assured me, that when the pilgrims
passed on their way to the sacred foot-
print on Adam's Peak, she sold as many
flowers and as much fruit as the garden
could produce, and enabled them to be quite
extravagant in white cloths and
handkerchiefs.

From that time forward, I never passed
through Malwattie without a draught of
fresh milk, and a little bouquet gathered by
Dochie's own tiny hand. At length, it came
to my dismounting regularly, and, in course
of time, amongst other things we talked of,
were books and knowledge. Her dark,
bright eyes sparkled as I told her what
wonders she might learn if she could but
read English books. This strange art was
now her sole thought, and one day she found
courage to ask me how she could learn it. I
hesitated, for I did not quite see how to help
her; but when I offered to send her a book
with the English alphabet, and moreover to
teach her to read the letters, her joy was
unbounded. In a few months my pupil had not
only mastered the alphabet, but could spell
small words, and knew several short sentences.
Not content with this, I talked to her of
religion, and explained the nature and history
of Christianity, as well as my ability allowed
me. I was not quite so successful here, but
I was content to pave the way for future
labourers, and rejoiced to find her always
anxious for truth.

It was, I think, quite a year after my first
acquaintance with Dochie, that one morning
I alighted as usual, and was surprised to find
my pupil absent, and in her place a young
Cingalese man, evidently of the low country.
My surprise was equalled by his own. In a
minute after, Dochie came bounding in with
eggs and milk, and some little light cakes
just prepared for the stranger, who, I then
perceived, had his arm bandaged, and
altogether looked fatigued and ill. I did not
remain long that day; and learned, on
retiring to mount my pony, that the stranger
had sought refuge there very early that
morning, having in vain begged through the
village for a resting-place; he had been robbed
and beaten during the previous night on some
lonely track, and Dochie hesitated not one
moment in welcoming him within their little
dwelling; and, in her own singleness and
purity of heart, acting the good Samaritan. I
could but admire her kindness; and yet,
mixed with admiration, was a feeling akin to
jealousy. I wished that it had been my fate
to have been robbed and beaten, if only for
the pleasure of being tended by the gentle
Dochie.

Again months rolled on, and the low-
country stranger, and the robbers, were all
forgotten. Changes had been, meanwhile,
creeping over the face of the hitherto changeless
Malwattie, and those not for the better.
The worst of all innovations was the establishment
of an arrack tavern in the very heart of
the village. The Government, in its anxiety
to add to its revenue, and increase its means
of developing the resources of the country (I
think that was what they termed it), had
granted permission to the renter of the arrack
licenses for the Kandyan country to establish
a few score additional taverns, one of which
novelties was located in Malwattie; and soon,
where before had been quiet contentment,
was nothing but brawling riot. It is true the
executive presented an antidote with the
poison, by establishing a free school opposite
the noisy tavern; but education stood small
chance in competition with arrack, and for
every new pupil at the desk, there was a
brace of fresh drunkards. This led to an
increase in the duties of the police, and soon
after to a salary to the head-constable; crime
was on the increase; law-suits were instituted;
families at peace for several generations
became deadly enemies; and, ere a year had
elapsed since the introduction of the tavern,
the whole social fabric of Malwattie was rent
and disrupted into ugly masses.

I continued to visit my friends, the Korale
and the priest, both of whom, especially the
latter, spoke bitterly of the arrack nuisance,
and looked upon the establishment of the
school as a direct attack upon Buddhism.
I saw plainly, however, that there was
another and deeper feeling, antagonistic to
the educational scheme, in the bosoms of
these leading men of the place. They felt
that by diffusing enlightenment amongst the
poorest of the villagers, the British Government
would in time raise the masses of the
people above the level of the head men, in
which case their influence would at once
disappear. Their unflinching opposition was
but little needed, for the native peasants
could not be made to appreciate that
knowledge which their immediate superiors did
not possess. Too prone to take as their
models those above them, the villagers were
content to remain as they knew their fathers
had been, and as they saw their Korales and
Dessaves were. Unfortunately those in
charge of Government schools have yet to
learn that they have been toiling with the
broad end of the educational wedge foremost;
that in Eastern countries enlightenment can
only flow downwards, never upwards: that to
elevate the Indian serfs, you must first
improve the intellectual capacities of those
whom they ever have, and ever will regard
as their patterns.

My progress with the flower-girl's schooling
was satisfactory, and I had, besides, the
pleasure of finding her inclined to cast aside
the superstitions of Buddha. In these tasks
I was at this time aided by the teacher of the
Government school, a Portuguese burgher,
who seconded my efforts most zealously.
The months flew rapidly past, and twice a
week found me and Dochie seated beneath