The coucher goes by different names in different parts of India. In Bengal and in the United and Central Provinces he is known as the “suttya” or “mal,” and in the Punjab as the “rawal.” Ekambaram, who came into intimate contact with these men in the Madras Presidency, always describes them as “vaidyans,” the term signifying surgeons. In the north they are Hindus, of the Kayasth caste, a class well known for its astuteness and educational qualifications. Drake-Brockman states that in the north Mahomedan couchers are rare, whilst in the Southern Presidency it appears to be the exception to find a Hindu doing such work. Like every other occupation, couching in India is hereditary, the principles of the craft being handed down from father to son by word of mouth and by practical instruction. It has been stated that there is no literature on the subject. This, however, would appear to be a mistake, for Ekambaram learnt that there are “some old texts written on palmyra leaves laying down the method.” A literal translation of one of these runs: “Removing the lancet after making a puncture, insert the copper probe; and holding it with three fingers, depress the lens with the three-sided edge.” By tradition and ancestral habit, the coucher is a wanderer on the face of the earth, and like a gipsy he carries his wares, such as they are, to the very doors of the people’s homes; but it is probable that in each of the large provinces of India these men have a headquarters of their own. This in the Madras Presidency is known as “Kannadiputhur,” which signifies the “village of eye operations.” During part of the year these men are agriculturists and fishermen; but when the dry season robs them of their occupations, they wander forth to practise the art, with which their ancestors have been identified from time immemorial. They do not, however, confine themselves to eye operations, but practise as well a crude form of general surgery. Like many other disciples of Æsculapius, their fee is a very elastic one, and, in common with other artists, they learn to know both the smiles and the frowns of fortune. Luxury rarely comes their way, whilst hardship and toil are their constant lot. Their spare evening hours are filled in with such arduous and monotonous occupations as net-weaving; and full many a night they go hungry to sleep, with the sun-baked earth for their only bed.