Once an English officer, walking along the road, passed very near a Hindoo just going to eat his dinner; suddenly he saw the man take up the dish and dash it angrily to the ground.  Why?  The officer’s shadow had passed over the food and polluted it.

If you were to invite poor Hindoos to come to a feast, they would not eat if you sat down with them:  nor would they eat unless they knew a Hindoo had cooked their food.  Even children at school will not eat with children of a lower caste,—­or with their teachers, if the teachers are not Hindoos.

There was once a little Hindoo girl named Rajee.  She went to a missionary’s school, but she would not eat with her schoolfellows, because she belonged to a higher caste than they did.  As she lived at the school, her mother brought her food every day, and Rajee sat under a tree to eat it.  At the end of two years she told her mother that she wished to turn from idols, and serve the living God.  Her mother was much troubled at hearing this, and begged her child not to bring disgrace on the family by becoming a Christian.  But Rajee was anxious to save her precious soul.  She cared no longer for her caste, for she knew that all she had been taught about it was deceit and folly; therefore one day she sat down and ate with her schoolfellows.  When her mother heard of Rajee’s conduct, she ran to the school in a rage, and seizing her little daughter by the hair of the head, began to beat her severely.  Then she hastened to the priests to ask them whether the child had lost her caste forever.  The priests replied, “Has the child got her new teeth?” “No,” said the mother.  “Then we can cleanse her, and when her new teeth come she will be as pure as ever.  But you must pay a good deal of money for the cleansing.”  Were they not cunning priests? and covetous priests too?

The money was paid, and Rajee was brought home against her will.  Dreadful sufferings awaited the poor child.  The cleansing was a cruel business.  The priests burned the child’s tongue.  This was one of their cruelties.  When little Rajee was suffered to go back to school, she was so ill that she could not rise from her bed.

The poor deceived mother came to see her.  “I am going to Jesus,” said the young martyr.  The mother began to weep, “O Rajee, we will not let you die.”

“But I am glad,” the little sufferer replied, “because I shall go to Jesus.  If you, mother, would love him, and give up your idols, we should meet again in heaven.”

An hour afterwards Rajee went to heaven; but I have never heard whether her mother gave up her idols.

THE GANGES.—­This beautiful river waters the sultry plain of Bengal.  God made this river to be a blessing, but man has turned it into a curse.  The Hindoos say the River Ganges is the goddess Gunga; and they flock from all parts of India to worship her.  When they reach the river they bathe in it, and fancy they have washed away all their sins.  They carry away large bottles of the sacred water for their friends at home.