the evening shades close in.

Darya Khan, the "Lord of the Rivers," the hospital cook, is waiting
for the day's supplies, and reports fifty patients on full diet,
twenty on middle, and fifteen on milk diet. So many cases have left
the hospital, so many admitted; such a one died last night. And so
the supplies for the day are measured out and weighed, and orders
given for the purchase of fresh goods as needed.

Then come the ward clerks, with their tale of soiled linen and case
sheets to be checked, and clean towels, bandages, bed-linen, and
clothes for the in-patients have to be dealt out according to the
needs of each one.

This over, the head gardener, 'Alam Khan, or the "Lord of the
World," is standing by with the day's supply of vegetables and
flowers, and these have to be apportioned to the patients in the
hospital and to the various members of the staff whose families
reside on the premises. He follows with a string of questions, each
of which requires due consideration, such as, "Are the mulberries
to be shaken yet?" "Where are the young Pipul tree saplings to be
planted?" "Some oranges were stolen in the night; would I come and
see the footmarks?" "A hostel boy ('Light of Religion') was caught
among the plum-trees with some fruit in his pocket. Would I punish
him?" And so on, as long as one has leisure to listen and adjudicate.

The clock strikes eight, leaving just half an hour to visit the wards
before out-patients begin. There is the abdominal section operation
of yesterday to examine; the house-surgeon has come to report that the
case of tubercular glands has had a haemorrhage during the night. We are
just hurrying over to see them, when up comes 'Alam Gul, the "Flower
of the Earth," to say his brother was coming down from the roof that
morning, when his foot slipped on the ladder; he fell on his head,
and was lying unconscious. Would I go and see him? The serious cases
seen, and 'Alam Gul's brother visited, the out-patient department is
demanding our attention. The verandahs are full of patients, the men
in one and the women and children in another, and while the catechist
is preaching to the former, a Bible-woman is similarly engaged with
the latter. Outside are some patients lying on the native beds, or
charpais, and a variety of other equipages which have all brought
patients--palanquins, camels, oxen, asses, and so on.

Let us see some of these. Here is a Wazir shepherd from the
mountains. He has