whose face I burned the
prayer, so that the evil spirit fled." He asks from two to four annas for
the prayer sheet and finds many a purchaser in the crowd; and now and again
he rolls the sheet into a thin tube and ties it round the neck of a sick
child or round the arm of a sick woman, whom faith in Allah urges into the
presence of the peripathetic healer. "Oh, ye lovers of the beauties of the
Prophet," he cries, "Faith is the greatest of cures. Have faith and ye have
all! Know ye not that Allah bade the Prophet never pray for them that
lacked faith nor pray over the graves of those of little faith!"

Hark, through the hum of the crowd, above the rumble of wheels and the
jangle of bullock-bells, rises the plaintive chant of the Arab
hymn-singers, leading the corpse of a brother to the last "mukam"
or resting-place; while but a short distance away,--only a narrow
street's length,--the drum and flageolets escort the stalwart young
Memon bridegroom unto the house of the bride. Thus is it ever in
this city of strange contrasts. Life and Death in closest juxtaposition,
the hymn in honour of the Prophet's birth blending with the elegy
to the dead. Bag-pipes are not unknown in the Musalman quarters of
Bombay; and not infrequently you may watch a crescent of ten or twelve
wild Arab sailors in flowing brown gowns and parti-coloured head-scarves
treading a measure to the rhythm of the bagpipes blown by a younger
member of their crew. The words of the tune are the old words "La
illaha illallah," set to an air endeared from centuries past to the
desert-roving Bedawin, and long after distance has dulled the tread of
the dancing feet the plaintive notes of the refrain reach you upon the
night breeze. About midnight the silent streets are filled with the
long-drawn cry of the shampooer or barber, who by kneading and patting the
muscles induces sleep for the modest sum of 4 annas; and barely has his
voice died away than the Muezzin's call to prayer falls on the ear of the
sleeper, arouses in his heart thoughts of the past glory of his Faith, and
forces him from his couch to wash and bend in prayer before Him "Who
fainteth not, Whom neither sleep nor fatigue overtaketh."

During the hot months of the year the closeness of the rooms and the
attacks of mosquitoes force many a respectable householder to shoulder his
bedding and join the great army of street-sleepers, who crowd the footpaths
and open spaces like shrouded corpses. All sorts