Another legal method by which Siamese practitioners increase their incomes is by acting as priests to the demons who are supposed to cause disease. They take advantage of the universal superstition that the deceased spirits of mankind have power to cause, as well as cure, disease; and that they can be propitiated by offerings. The people credit the doctors with the power to tell whether these oblations are required or not; and for each time that he is at the trouble of making such offerings, he may legally claim, in case of cure, three shillings from his patient. This oblation is called _Kraban_, and is performed as follows: The doctor moulds little clay images, sometimes of men, women, or children; sometimes of elephants, horses, oxen, or swine; and sometimes of silver or gold coin; and places them on a little float, or stand made of plantain stalk, or leaf. Interspersed among them, he puts a little rice, salt, pepper, onion, plantain, chillies, seri-leaf, and betel-nut, and lights up the whole by placing a small candle on the stand. Thus arranged, he carries it into the street, and lays it down by the wayside; or, if the house faces the river or canal, he sets it afloat, and leaves it to take care of itself. The fee for making this sacrifice is called _Soo-a Kraban_. The listlessness of the Siamese and other Shans with regard to contagious diseases is astonishing. They seldom take any care to avoid contact with leprous persons, who are quite common in their families; and until 1840, when vaccination was introduced by the American missionaries, they had no thought of shielding themselves or their children from their most terrible scourge, smallpox. Even now, when the utility of vaccination is explained to them, many shrug their shoulders and carelessly reply, “Tam boon tam kam,”—follow good, follow evil—which implies that they must submit to whatever happiness or sorrow their deserts bring them. One of the great causes of disease amongst them is, doubtless, the uncleanliness of their dwellings and furniture. It might be inferred that a people so fond of bathing, and so particular in washing their persons and clothes, would be equally clean in their houses. But such is not the fact. They scarcely ever scrub the ceilings, walls, or floors of their dwellings. You may see dirt upon the walls and posts of their houses, layer upon layer, the accumulation of years. The floors, if made of plank, are always of a dingy dirty colour, yet polished with a varnish made by the dirt of their bare feet continually rubbed in with other filth. Here and there in the floor you will see holes conducting to the lower storey, which they use as spittoons, and for other purposes.