The Hindoo treatment of the sick is quite peculiar, and I once had an opportunity to witness some of its curious features during the illness of my Sanskrit teacher, the pundit Govind. I was fortunate in this, since only exceptional circumstances permit a European to pollute with his presence the dwelling of a high-caste Brahman. Every one knows that caste still holds the Hindoos under an iron rule, but it is difficult for us of the Western World to realize, without actual experience, the tenacity with which its mandates are obeyed even in an extremity. For several days Govind had not presented himself to give his usual morning lesson at the "Aviary." I feared he was ill, but did not venture to visit him, lest my very shadow might pollute his dwelling and place him in an unpleasant dilemma with the rest of his high-caste friends. I began to be alarmed, however, on the third morning of Govind's absence, and was on the point of starting off to his house, when I observed a native woman coming toward the "Aviary," her scarlet saree fluttering in the breeze and making quite a pretty picture in the distance. I hastened to the doorstep to meet the stranger. She salââmed to me, but positively declined to enter the house. As she did so she flung back her scarf or covering, and from the sectarian mark on her forehead I knew that she was a high-caste Brahmanee. She stood for a few minutes breathless and silent, and I do not remember ever having seen a more delicate and sensitive-looking girl. The saree, which was a scarlet muslin cloth of Indian manufacture, and decorated with a handsome border, covered her person from head to foot, leaving the left arm and shoulder bare. I noticed that she had sandals on her feet and a number of bangles round her arms and ankles. Her shining black hair was tied in a massive knot behind and fastened by a gold pin, which also served to secure the end of her saree as a veil and covering for her head. Her features, form, arms, hands, and feet were of the most exquisite type, and her complexion of a rich chocolate-brown. She at length lifted her dark eyes brimming with tears, and with a slightly quivering voice said, "Beebee saihib torâ douva daoh kuda ka wasta; Govind ka jahn jata hai" ("Lady, for God's sake give me a little medicine; Govind's life is passing away"). I inquired the nature of his complaint, but all I could learn from the young woman was that Govind's stomach and legs had gone away, and that his head was fast following his heels, which is the Oriental phraseology for extreme prostration.