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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