The monkey, however, being small, was soon dispossessed of his prize; a bigger one claimed it, and sent the first owner to whimper and gibber indignation from the topmost branches, and then grin fiendishly as a yet bigger one despoiled _his_ despoiler. And so, unerringly, the garment of culture passed to the stronger, till the biggest old male of the lot, after inspecting every seam and trying to crack every button, conceived that it _must_ be some kind of adornment, and, after hanging the legs, stolewise, in front, the seat, cloakwise, behind, crossed its arms over its stomach, feeling satisfied it had solved that problem. Meanwhile, Chris had awakened to the impossibility of remaining where he was; for even his brief return to the normal in sleep had been sufficient to convince him of the hopelessness of attempting to return to that older standpoint. So, the day having advanced with the giant strides of an Indian dawn, he rose to retrieve his clothes, and sneak off with them to some quiet spot. As he did so, however, the sight of some one standing just above him made him squat down again and cover himself once more with the shawl. For it was his new foreman of works, John Ellison, who from the top of the steps was looking down affably, nodding to the old _pujâri_ (who had by this time a circle of customers awaiting hall-mark), and humming the baptismal hymn which begins, 'In token that thou shalt not fear,' between the salutations of '_Ram-ram_' (pronounced with a short _a_) which he showered on the bathers as they passed and repassed. ''Tis Jân-Ali-shân,' said one in answer to a question from a stranger. 'He feeds the monkeys.' 'And when Sri Hunumân's monkeys are fed by him, the feasting of Sri Yama's[12] crocodiles is not far off,' put in a listener, emphasising his allusion to the God of Death by a placid look towards a tinsel-bound corpse swung to a bamboo, which two men were carrying slantways across the steps to the burning place below the railway bridge. More than one amongst the bathers, overhearing the remark, nodded assent, and looked with a vague fear at the loafer who had seated himself a few steps down, and taken off his battered billy-cock; for being Sunday he was off duty and uniform. '_Ram-ram_,' he said, with a general wave of the hand. So it's the old game still. Sunlight soap, monkey brand, and A1 copper-bottomed at Lloyd's doing a fire insurance! Lordy Lord! I might 'ave bin 'ere last Sunday, instead o' last year. An' 'ows Mr. 'Oneyman?' The last word, intended for Hunumân, evidently conveyed a meaning to the whole remark, for many faces grinned, and the old _pujâri_ salaamed with all the difficult gravity of a child who knows some time-worn jest is nigh. 'Sri Hunumân hath been well, since the _Huzoor_ fed him on quinine pills hid in Shiv-_jee's_ raisins last year. Ho! ho! ho! that was a spectacle!'