y.'

Thus the monks passed, paying no sort of attention, while the people
knelt to them; and when the procession reached the end of the line of
offerings, it went on without stopping, across the fields, the monks of
each monastery going to their own place; and the givers of presents rose
up and followed them, each carrying his or her gifts. And so they went
across the fields till each little procession was lost to sight.

That was all the ceremony for the day, but at dusk the illuminations
began. The little pagoda in the fields was lighted up nearly to its top
with concentric rings of lamps till it blazed like a pyramid of flame,
seen far across the night. All the people came there, and placed little
offerings of flowers at the foot of the pagoda, or added each his candle
to the big illumination.

The house of the headman of the village was lit up with a few rows of
lamps, and all the monasteries, too, were lit. There were no
restaurants--everyone was at home, you see--but there were one or two
little stalls, at which you could buy a cheroot, or even perhaps a cup
of vermicelli; and there was a dance. It was only the village girls who
had been taught, partly by their own mothers, partly by an old man, who
knew something of the business. They did not dance very well, perhaps;
they were none of them very beautiful; but what matter? We knew them
all; they were our neighbours, the kinswomen of half the village;
everyone liked to see them dance, to hear them sing; they were all
young, and are not all young girls pretty? And amongst the audience were
there not the girls' relations, their sisters, their lovers? would not
that alone make the girls dance well, make the audience enthusiastic?
And so, what with the illuminations, and the chat and laughter of
friends, and the dance, we kept it up till very late; and we all went to
bed happy and well pleased with each other, well pleased with ourselves.
Can you imagine a more successful end than that?

To write about these festivals is so pleasant, it brings back so many
delightful memories, that I could go on writing for long and long. But
there is no use in doing so, as they are all very much alike, with
little local differences depending on the enterprise of the inhabitants
and the situation of the place. There might be boat-races, perhaps, on a
festival day, or pony-races, or boxing. I have seen all these, if not
at the festival at the end of Lent, at other festivals. I remem