The supervision of the work of maintaining in order the embankment of the village reservoir or "tank," upon which the rice crops depend, as well as of the fencing of the rice field, is in the hands of the Gamarāla, now termed in other parts than the North-central Province, the Vidānē. The latter title is not recognised in any of the folk-tales, in which (with one exception) the Gamarala is the only headman represented. His jurisdiction extends over two or three closely adjoining villages, or sometimes over one only.

Of a higher rank and different functions is the Aracci (pronounced Aratchy), who rules over five or six villages, and who is responsible for the maintenance of order, arrests and prosecutes offenders, and acts as general factotum for seeing that the orders received from superior headmen are promulgated and obeyed.

Of much more important authority are the KōralēAracci and Kōrāla, the latter being the head of a considerable district, and above these again is the Ratēmahatmayā, who is the supreme and very influential chief of a large part of a Province. By successive steps in promotion the members of influential or respectable families may rise to any of these offices. Though all but the highest one are unsalaried, they are competed for with a good deal of eagerness on account of the power which they confer, the possibility of further promotion, and also for the opportunities which they afford for receiving "presents," which flow in a pleasing though invisible, but not therefore less remunerative, stream towards all but the Vidānēs and Gamarālas.

A few words may be added regarding the castes of the Kandian districts whose stories are given in this work, or who are referred to.

The Smiths come next to the cultivating caste, sometimes occupying separate hamlets, but often living in the same village as the superior caste, though divided from it by an impassable gulf, of which only the women preserve the outward sign. Those of the cultivating caste are alone permitted by social custom to dress in one outer robe in

one piece; all of lower rank must wear a separate garment from the waist upward.

The Smiths are considered to be the highest class of their caste, called Nayidē, the artificers. There are said to be five classes of Nayidēs :-(1) Acāri (pronounced Atchāry), which includes the Smiths, Painters, and Sculptors; (2) Baḍahaela, Potters; (3) Mukkara or Karawa, Fishers; (4) Madinna, Toddy-drawers ("toddy" is fresh palm-juice); (5) all (5) all "Moormen," the descendants of Muhammadan settlers. All these, and the other low castes, except the Roḍiyās, cultivate rice and millet.

The Potters live by making all local forms of earthen pottery, and tiles and bricks if required. They build up large temporary kilns filled with alternate layers of pots and fire-wood, and are often intelligent men. Some of them are priests or conductors of services for the propitiation of planets and other evil astronomical bodies, as well as astrologers.

Next in the villages come the Washermen (Radawa, or Hēnaya, or Henawalaya), who possess great power as the arbiters regarding cases of the violation of social etiquette or custom. The disgrace of a refusal on their part to wash the clothes of objectionable persons is a form of social ostracism, and the offender soon has sad experience of the truth of the statement of the Maha Bhārata that there is nothing (except fire) that is so purifying as gold (or its value). Some of the washermen are officiators at demon ceremonies. They are paid for their services as washermen in produce of various kinds, each family giving an annual subvention in paddy, etc., in return for its washing. One whom I knew could improvise four-line stanzas for an indefinite time, on the spur of the moment, each verse being composed while the audience chanted the refrain after the preceding one.

The Tom-tom Beaters (Berawaya) are a peculiar and interesting caste, who formerly combined their present duties with the weaving of cotton fabrics in frames. Although the arduous work of their profession—often a whole night's hard dancing or tom-toming-leads at the

time to a considerable consumption of "arrack," the pirit distilled from palm juice, I believe that few of them take much liquor at other times.

In their own work many of them are very expert, the result of many years of training. On one occasion three tom-tom beaters requested permission to give me an exhibition of their skill. The leader first played a short simple tune, which was repeated in turn by the second and third players. They continued to play in this way, in turn, the tunes becoming increasingly difficult and rapid.; whatever impromptu changes the leader introduced were all repeated in the same manner by the others. A number of villagers who were present, and listening critically, stated that it was a clever performance; it was also a noisy one.

The boys are taught to learn thoroughly, without using a tom-tom, the whole of the complicated airs that are played, repeating a series of sounds such as ting, tang, etc., which with varying emphasis represent the various notes to be played on the tom-tom. Not until they can give in this manner the whole of an air correctly, as regards notes, time, and emphasis, are they considered to know it. It is a tonic sol-fa system. To these professionals, every air has its name and meaning, often expressed in words which fit the notes; so that when a very few notes have been heard they can state what is being said. The reader will find one or two references to this in the folk-tales.

The Durayas are the carriers of baggage for the higher caste, and nearly always have tanks and fields of more than average quality. These have been granted to them in former times by the cultivating caste in return for their services, which could be claimed at any time if a man were about to proceed on a journey, and required himself or his luggage carrying. They still occupy a very low social position. Formerly the women were not allowed to wear above the waist more clothing than a strip of calico of about a hand's breadth, across the breast; a coloured handkerchief now generally takes its place.

Much has been written about the Rodiyās. They may be of partly different descent from the Sinhalese, but I

do not know how far this matter has been investigated. Their hamlets are never called gama, village," but kuppăyama.1 I am not aware that any of them cultivate rice fields; they make ropes, and guard chenas and cattle for others. They also partly subsist by begging, and, it is said, by theft; some are gamblers also. The women usually wear no clothing above the waist. Their dialect differs from Sinhalese to some extent.

Nothing is known regarding the origin of the Kinnarās, the lowest caste of all, in whose case there are several anomalies that deserve investigation. They do not hunt as a profession. They have village tanks and rice fields, own cattle, and have good houses and neat villages. Their caste occupation is mat weaving in frames, with Niyanda fibre alone or combined with grass.

Some have their heads covered with a mass of thick, short, very curly hair, being the only people in the island possessing this distinctive characteristic. The features and the colour of the skin are of the ordinary type of the lower castes, and would not enable them to be recognised from others. Social rules forbid the growth of the hair beyond the neck. The dress of the women is restricted like that of the Durayās. Though they can never enter Buddhist temples, or the enclosures round them, they are all Buddhists. I was informed that their social ceremonies, as well as the religious ones, that is, those for propitiating evil spirits, whether demoniacal or planetary, closely resemble those of the other castes; and that they, as well as the Roḍiyās, have their own medical practitioners, astrologers, soothsayers, and kapuwās or officiators at demon ceremonies.

The men of the Chetti caste, or Heṭṭiyās, who are mentioned in some of the stories, are either Indians, or the descendants of Indian settlers. The Chetti caste is one of great importance, and many of its members are persons of the highest respectability and often of great wealth. The persons referred to in these tales are only some of the

1 From the Tamil kuppam, a village of small houses, perhaps + ayam, ground.

inferior members of the race, some of whom have little road-side shops or cultivate small fields and gardens.

Coming at last to the stories themselves, I may quote the words of the late Mr. W. Goonetilleke, the learned editor of The Orientalist, a journal published during the years 1884-1892, in which many folk-tales of Ceylon were given. Mr. Goonetilleke said (vol. i. p. 36), What is really wanted . . . are the genuine stories of the Sinhalese [and other races also], those which are quite free from foreign influences, and have existed among the people from time immemorial. These can only be gathered from the inhabitants of villages and of the remoter parts of the island into which western civilization has not yet penetrated." It is an adherence to this advice, and, I may say also, the complete absence of all attempts to give the tales a literary appearance that the originals do not possess, which constitute the special features of the present work.

Though all have been collected by myself, I have only myself written down a very limited number from dictation. All the rest have been written for me in Sinhalese by the narrators themselves, or by other villagers employed by me to collect them, who wrote them just as they were dictated. I preferred this latter method as being free from any disturbing foreign influence. Only three very short stories were written down by me in English; two of them were related in English by a Sinhalese gentleman, and the other, a variant of another story, was written immediately after a Buddhist monk had related it to me in Sinhalese. The stories, as they now appear, are practically literal translations of the written Sinhalese originals, perhaps it may be thought in some respects too literal. My aim has been to present them as nearly as possible in the words in which they are related in the villages. The only liberty of any importance that I have taken has been the insertion of an occasional word or phrase where it was evidently omitted by the narrator, or was necessary in order to elucidate the meaning, or complete the sense.