Notwithstanding, the _Tulsi_ moved not, and frequent reminders at last elicited a reason. “It would take a ceremony and a very holy man to transplant the sacred _Tulsi_.” “Bring him; make the ceremonies,” I entreated, stipulating only that I should be present. So, next morning he brought the holy man, and they sat, both of them on their heels, beside the bush, and read it some sacred texts about Jagannath and his colleagues; then they explained to it the situation, my wishes, its own danger ... and with many mutterings of magic words they carried the plant to the new place. The rest of the ceremony was fixed for “the hour of union,” and when all was ready I was duly summoned. Little earthen pots, fed with oil, in which floated a cotton wick, made great illuminations about the Mali’s hut. The _Tulsi_ sat in its hole, and gathered about it in apology and propitiation were the Mali’s gardening tools; the basket, mouth to earth, holding a light, a brass plate of sugar biscuits and parched rice, and a pot of Ganges water.... He made an offering of the tools and foodstuffs, and last of all of a handful of lovely white lilies. These he crushed among the brown roots, bruising them, burying them--who shall say what symbol he had in his mind? then he watered the plant, muttering, and finally settled once more on his heels and read it a little pink book of invocations to the God of the Car--read it from cover to cover--there by the light of the little earthen lamp on the basket. When he made himself into a huddled-up pillow before the tree, head pressed against the newly-raked earth, I knew the ceremony was over. What was most extraordinary was his utter unselfconsciousness. He had been pleased that I should come, had begged it; but at his “God-worship,” my presence was completely forgotten. The ritual was more than form of game. How cruel to suggest to such as he, then, the thought in my mind, that the _Tulsi_ probably owed its sacred origin and place in every Hindu courtyard to its efficacy in keeping away mosquitos! I wondered what reason my Purdahnashin would give me for the worship of the _Tulsi_. I would ask. Curiosity was rewarded with a beautiful story. Why did she hold the _Tulsi_ holy? It was only because it was the wife of the Great God. Did I not know the tale? Listen then. Once upon a time lived a great Giant who had a beautiful wife, and was successful in conquering and possessing himself of everything he wished.