water cold or warm, the Rajpoot and
Brahmin, the respectable middle classes, and all in the village who lay
any claim to social position, have their _goosal_ or bath. Some hie to
the nearest tank or stream; at all hours of the day, at any ferry or
landing stage, you will see swarthy fine-looking fellows up to mid
waist in the water, scrubbing vigorously their bronzed arms, and neck
and chest. They clean their teeth with the end of a stick, which they
chew at one extremity, till they loosen the fibres, and with this
improvised toothbrush and some wood ashes for paste, they make them
look as white and clean as ivory.

There is generally a large masonry well in the middle of the village,
with a broad smooth _pucca_ platform all round it. It has been built by
some former father of the hamlet, to perpetuate his memory, to fulfil a
vow to the gods, perhaps simply from goodwill to his fellow townsmen.
At all events there is generally one such in every village. It is
generally shadowed by a huge _bhur, peepul_, or tamarind tree. Here may
always be seen the busiest sight in the village. Pretty young women
chatter, laugh, and talk, and assume all sorts of picturesque attitudes
as they fill their waterpots; the village matrons gossip, and sometimes
quarrel, as they pull away at the windlass over the deep cool well. On
the platform are a group of fat Brahmins nearly nude, their lighter
skins contrasting well with the duskier hue of the lower classes. There
are several groups. With damp drapery clinging to their glistening
skins, they pour brass pots of cold water over their dripping bodies;
they rub themselves briskly, and gasp again as the cool element pours
over head and shoulders. They sit down while some young attendant or
relation vigorously rubs them down the back; while sitting they clean
their feet. Thus, amid much laughing and talking, and quaint gestures,
and not a little expectoration, they perform their ablutions. Not
unfrequently the more wealthy anoint their bodies with mustard oil,
which at all events keeps out cold and chill, as they claim that it
does, though it is not fragrant. Round the well you get all the village
news and scandal. It is always thronged in the mornings and evenings,
and only deserted when the fierce heat of midday plunges the village
into a lethargic silence; unbroken save where the hum of the hand-mill,
or the thump of the husking-post, tells where some busy damsel or
matron is grinding flour,