are inclined to talk with
emphasis; and if you stand between the three classes you hear queer
answers to queerer questions, and wonder if the babies at Babel were
anything like so bewildering.

But this vision of the kindergarten is hardly a fortnight old; for
Classes B, C, and D are of recent development, and are made up of some
heedless characters, as Chellalu and Pyarie, who could not keep up with
class A, and a few more young things from the nursery who were wilder
than wild rabbits from the wood when we began. Also it should be stated
that from the babies' point of view white people are only playthings.
"They were very good before you came!" is the unflattering remark
frequently addressed to us; and as we discreetly retire, the babies do
seem to become suddenly beautifully docile. But even so they might be
better, as an unconscious comedy over-seen this morning proves. I was in
the porch outside the door, when Rukma, pointing to a blackboard on
which were written sundry words, told Chellalu to show her "cat," and I
looked in interested to know if Chellalu really knew anything of
reading. Chellalu brandished the pointer, then turned to Rukma with a
confidential smile, "Cat? Where is it, Accal? Is it at the top or at the
bottom?" Rukma, who has a keen sense of the comic, seemed to find it
difficult to look as she felt she ought. Chellalu caught the twinkle in
her eye, and throwing herself heartily into the spirit of the game,
which was evidently intended to be a kindergarten version of Hunt the
Mouse through the Wood, she searched the blackboard for cat. Then to
Rukma: "Accal! dear Accal! Tell _me_, and I'll tell _you_!"

There is nothing that helps us so much to be good as to be believed in
and thought better than we are; and the converse is true, so we do not
want to be always suspecting Chellalu of sin; but this last was entirely
too artless, and this was apparently Rukma's view, for she sent Chellalu
back to her seat and called up another baby, who, fairly radiating
virtue, immediately found the cat.

The next room--which Class A (the first to be formed) has to itself--is
a haven of peace after the Bear-garden. It is a pleasant room like the
other, pretty with pictures and with flowers. And the little bright
faces make it a happy place, for this class, though serious-minded, is
exceedingly cheerful. There is the demure little Tingalu, the good child
of the kindergarten, its hope and stay in troublous hours, and