Knowledge on the subject of “sending devils” is the property of the Priesthood, Royal Fellows of the Society of Hellologists! but magic men and women, non-diplomaed and unlicensed also abound, and every dweller in town or village who has ever known or inherited a hate, has his own little stock of demonology for home consumption. It is my pride that on the one occasion when I was consciously operated upon, it was by the specialist. I had helped to secure protection for a child who had enemies, I was naturally therefore hated of these same. When back from her Estate, in the comparative civilization of my own little home, I got a much-thumbed message which had been thoughtfully left in my post-box. “Twenty Priests learned in magic,” so it ran, “are sending a devil into you.” It was true. On the remote scene of thwarted vengeance, they were “making magic”--cursing a clay image made in my likeness, walking over every square inch of ground I had trod at the Palace, or in the Gardens, and--breathing curses. My answer was a message, “To the Chief Priest among the twenty Priests most learned in magic, who sit in the Grove of Mangoes, at the Monkey Temple, in N ..., ‘keep the Devil, till I come.’” This was treated as a ribald tempting of the demon, and a man was sent to sit at my gate and curse me so that the flesh should wither from my bones, and my house be desolate.... But my household and my dear yellow “Chow,” and my little gray mare, and my red-speckled _munias_, all the live things within my gates, did, with me, flourish exceedingly ... and in a fortnight my twenty Priests withdrew their man, no doubt deciding that I had already a devil bigger than any at their command! They were, alas! more successful with my little friend. First, they threw mustard before her as she walked, and she--sneezed.... “What would you?” It was Colman’s mustard that you buy in yellow tins at the “Europe Shops.” ... But she sneezed--that meant a devil had entered, and the Priest spared not the picturesque in description of him. Then, one morning on her doorstep she found a little box--in it was a human thigh bone and three packets of powder--red, yellow, blue. This was a very potent curse, and she trembled exceedingly, so that she could not even name its meaning.[2] [Footnote 2: A knowledge of curses is a useful asset to Legal Advisers. I have known a serious family dispute composed on this wise. _A._ I could forgive everything but the bone under my bed, for this I will fight _B._ even till I am penniless. _Adviser_ (Soothingly). Certainly, certainly--and now let’s have the bone ... which, produced, instead of being that powerful to curse, is merely a harmless leg-of-mutton bone! The way to peace is open.]