At early morning we were awakened by the birds in the peepul tree. My first words were, “Darling mama,” for I expected to see her, and what an eternal joy it would have been if I could have had but one sight of her beautiful smiling face as I saw it in my dream! My heart was sorely disappointed and harassed. Why could not this world have been arranged without so many disappointments? Why could not the sorrows be more equally divided? The roses be without so many thorns? We went to the well in the garden and the faqir drew water with his lota and string, and the little sister and I had a nice shower bath as the faqir poured the water over us. He enjoyed his part as much as we did ours. He out-Christianed the Christian teaching, for besides food and shelter, he not only gave us water to drink, but poured it all over us. On returning to the hut he gave us some dried figs, nuts and sugar, and we were still more happy. After awhile, with a look of pleasure and pity, he asked whither we were traveling? I told him we did not know. This rather surprised him. Then he inquired where our home was, and I replied that we had no home. He wanted to know who our father and mother were, and I answered that we never had a father; that we had a dear mama once, but she had gone; two men had carried her away on a charpoy and we never saw her again. The old man seemed very sad on hearing this, and when our new mama asked if we should not be going on, he begged of us to wait and rest another day; so we stayed. We watched the carts and the travelers as they passed by, listened to the songs of the birds in the peepul tree, and rested; and what a rest it was, without being hungry. A day and another pleasant night passed, when something said, “Go on.” It is forever thus. It seems an inevitable law that one must be always going, progressing, growing, or else comes idleness, death and decay. This may seem a big idea to have any reference to the small subject in hand, but I do not look at it in that way. I was then of as much importance to myself as the greatest man on earth is to himself. The life of a fly is as valuable to the fly as the life of an elephant is to the elephant, though they differ so much in size of body and sphere of life. Each smallest thing has its round of destiny to fulfill, and I had mine. We were very sorry to part with our kind old friend, to leave our palace of rest and feasts of food, but something impelled us onward. We started not without thanking the good kind old faqir in every possible phrase, and when we were on the way, as we looked back we saw him watching us. We waved our hands and he responded. Soon we were out of sight never to see our friend again, but I have erected a monument in my heart to his memory.