The Eyes of Asia | Page 6

Rudyard Kipling
and colours and glittering glass work, with pillars." [You know
that's true, Sahib. We can see it--but d'you think he'll believe? Never!
Never!] "Our food is cooked for us according to our creeds--Sikh, or
Brahmin, or Mussulman and all the rest--When a man dies he is also
buried according to his creed. Though he has been a groom or a
sweeper, he is buried like some great land-owner. Do not let such
matters trouble you henceforth. Living or dying, all is done in
accordance with the ordinance of our faiths. Some low-caste men, such
as sweepers, counting upon the ignorance of the doctors here make a
claim to be of reputable caste in order that they may get consideration.
If a sweeper in this hospital says he is forbidden by his caste to do
certain things he is believed. He is not beaten." [Now, why is that,
Sahib? They ought to be beaten for pretending to have caste, and
making a mock of the doctors. I should slipper them publicly--but--I'm
not the Government. We will go on.]
"The English do not despise any sort of work. They are of many castes,
but they are all one kind in this. On account of my wounds, I have not
yet gone abroad to see English fields or towns." [It is true I have been
out twice in a motor-carriage, Sahib, but that goes too quickly for a
man to see shops, let alone faces. We will not tell him that. He does not
like motor-cars.] "The French in Franceville work continually without
rest. The French and the Phlahamahnds [Flamands] who are a caste of
French, are Kings among cultivators. As to cultivation--" [Now, I pray,
Sahib, write quickly for I am as full of this matter as a buffalo of water]
"their fields are larger than ours, without any divisions, and they do not
waste anything except the width of the footpath. Their land descends
securely from father to son upon payment of tax to the Government,
just as in civilized countries. I have observed that they have their land
always at their hearts and in their mouths, just as in civilized countries.
They do not grow more than one crop a year, but this is recompensed to

them because their fields do not need irrigation. The rain in Franceville
is always sure and abundant and in excess. They grow all that we grow
such as peas, onions, garlic, spinach, beans, cabbages and wheat. They
do not grow small grains or millet, and their only spice is mustard.
They do not drink water, but the juice of apples which they squeeze
into barrels for that purpose. A full bottle is sold for two pice. They do
not drink milk but there is abundance of it. It is all cows' milk, of which
they make butter in a churn which is turned by a dog." [Now, how shall
we make my brother believe that? Write it large.] "In Franceville, the
dogs are both courteous and industrious. They play with the cat, they
tend the sheep, they churn the butter, they draw a cart and guard it too.
When a regiment meets a flock, the dogs of their own wisdom order the
sheep to step to one side of the road. I have often seen this." [Not one
word of this will he or anyone in the villages believe, Sahib. What can
you expect? They have never even seen Lahore City! We will tell him
what he can understand.] "Ploughs and carts are drawn by horses.
Oxen are not used for these purposes in these villages. The field work
is wholly done by old men and women and children, who can all read
and write. The young men are all at the war. The war comes also to the
people in the villages, but they do not regard the war because they are
cultivators. I have a friend among the French--an old man in the village
where the Regiment was established, who daily fills in the holes made
in his fields by the enemy's shells with dirt from a long-handled spade.
I begged him once to desist when we were together on this work, but he
said that idleness would cause him double work for the day following.
His grandchild, a very small maiden, grazed a cow behind a wood
where the shells fell, and was killed in that manner. Our Regiment was
told the news and they took an account of it, for she was often among
them, begging buttons from their uniforms. She was small and full of
laughter, and she had learned a little of our tongue." [Yes. That was a
very great shame, Sahib. She was the child of us all. We exacted a
payment, but she was slain--slain like a
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