There are scores of them at work, and the ceremony is soon finished. Then all set off home again, and the jovial part of the festivities begin. All along the road are urchins with squirts and syringes, made of tin and bamboo, with which they have been furtively practising for the last few days, and their experience develops itself in extreme accuracy in catching you with a stream of water in the ear. Young men and girls salute one another mostly with cups and goblets of water, and stifled screams and shouts of merriment rise everywhere. Before breakfast every one is soaked, but no one changes, for it is fine warm weather, and there is lots more water to come.

During the day there is a regular going round to pay the compliments of the season. It is a great kadaw day in the palace at Mandalay, and all the nobles and officials go to "beg-pardon," and worship at the golden feet—not with water however. Similarly inferiors pay their respects to their superiors and masters; children to their parents, scholars to their teachers, and juniors generally to seniors. There is water everywhere, more especially on those parts of your dress which cling most uncomfortably to you. The girls are the most enthusiastic in the matter, and as they generally go in bands and have a copious reservoir in the shape of big jars along with them, the unprotected male is routed in no time. Some zealous people go down to the river or creek, wade into the water knee-deep and splash water at one another till they are tired and the thing begins to seem monotonous. No one escapes; in fact no one would care to get through the three days with dry clothes, for the wetting is considered a compliment. A clerk comes up to his master, shekhos to him, and gravely pours the contents of a silver cup down the back of his neck, saying yay-kadaw mee, "I will do homage to you with water." A polite, but less humble form of speech is

yay-loung-thee, to "pour" water over; while equals, and the young people generally, yay-pet-thee, "splash" one another with the utmost vigour. It is to be observed that dirty water is never used. I think, however, the barbaric innovation of squirts ought to be put down. They concentrate the stream in a most aggravating way, and it is almost a luxury to have an honest splash from a basin afterwards, even though it do catch you in the small of the back.

Foreigners do not object to the custom, except perhaps. some of the more pompous and stolid natives of India, whose minds are incapable of appreciating a joke in any form whatever. The rollicking Chinaman takes it up with the utmost zeal, and sets about the thing in the most business-like way. The last time I was in Maulmein one of the store-keepers in the main street had rigged up a garden hydrant in front of his house and connected it with the well. A coolie was engaged to work it all day, and a continuous jet of water, sufficient to put out a small conflagration, streamed from the nozzle the entire duration of the feast. Not only was Boon Tek enabled to drench everybody, but he advertised his machines and made a good thing of it.

But the Chinaman was exceeded in zeal by a young Englishman in Prome, not many years ago. He was a Government official, and there were two friends dining with him. A note came round to him from a neighbour in the next street saying that the yay-pet-thee girls were out and would be round his way shortly. So he forthwith made preparations. The Madrasi "boys" got a huge bath tub on to the verandah, and tin pannikins were placed handy, and the dinner proceeded. But unfortunately there was no one put to watch for the arrival of the girls, and the first notice of their appearance was a well directed

stream of water in the nearest man's shirt-front. To sally forth was the work of an instant, but it was found that the tub was in the possession of the enemy, and only served to eke out the abundant supply they had brought with them in big silver bowls. The three Englishmen were soaked through at the first discharge. But the English boh-gyee was not to be discomfited so easily. He rushed through a perfect cascade, and seizing the first damsel he came across, incontinently plunged her in the bathing-tub and soused her under. This filled the rest with dismay, and they forthwith took to their heels and ran, followed as speedily as her clinging garments would permit, by the offended beauty who had been so unceremoniously treated. The occurrence was rather unfortunate, for the girls were all the daughters of some of the principal Burmans in the town, and it is a very grave impropriety for a man to lay hands on a woman even in joke; how much more to duck her in a wash-tub and wet all her hair! That young official had no more compliments paid him at New Year's time, to his own loudly expressed regret.

The most ludicrous story I have heard on the subject of the water-feast may serve as a warning to Englishmen who arrive in Burma in April. The victim reached Rangoon on the second day of the water-feast, and having no Indian outfit got himself up in a tall hat, frock coat and the rest, to go and present a letter of introduction. After much trouble and irritation, caused by the meanderings of his ghari-wallah, not by any means alleviated by the heat-for the sun is usually at its hottest in April-he arrived at the desired house, and proceeded up stairs. On the verandah he found three or four Burmese girls, who forthwith asked permission to throw water on him. He naturally supposed they were asking whether he wanted to see the master of the house, and nodded violently. Whereupon they capsized

their bowls of water over him, including the hat in the libation. The astonished man took it to be a custom of the country to cool down over-heated foreigners, but thought the soaking of his "stove-pipe "stove-pipe" an unnecessary detail. Just then the owner of the house appeared, having retired previously to get some money to buy himself off a ducking, and having been informed of the state of affairs, burst into a fit of such violent laughter at the griff's notion of the ceremony as roused in the latter a wrath so fiery that it almost dried him again.

A special feature of the New Year's Feast is the formal washing of the king's head, called thi'gyan daw gyee. It is not to be supposed that his majesty washes his head only once a year, or that it is at any time an operation to be lightly undertaken, any more than it is by the humblest of his subjects. But at other times the ceremony is called hkoung-say mingala or thi'gyan daw hkaw, and is not attended with so great solemnity as characterises the function at the opening of a new year. Formerly the water for the purpose was annually brought up from Hkoung-say Gyoon (Head-washing Island), a little rocky islet situated on the river opposite Maulmein. Hkoungsay Gyoon is fabled to hang, with its little cluster of pagodas and monasteries, by an invisible cord from the heavens, and has therefore long enjoyed a special sanctity, not by any means reduced by the springs of clean bubbling water found on its limited surface. Therefore for long it supplied all the water for the royal head-washing. Latterly, however, it has been abandoned, and with this there is a curious history connected. After the war of 1826, it was settled in a general way between the commissioners that the river Salween should form the boundary between Burma and the newly-acquired British province of Tenasserim. But later a question arose as to the ownership of

the islands, and especially of the rich rice-growing Beeloogyoon, north and south of which the three rivers flow into the sea. After much fruitless palavering it was determined to leave the decision to chance. A couple of cocoanuts were tied together and taken some distance up the Salween and thrown into the water in the middle of the river. They went down bobbing gaily till they came to the place where the conflicting currents of the Gyaing and the Attaran come in, and there they twirled and twisted about in an aggravating way until at last an eddy caught them, and, carrying them past the old town of Martaban, decided for the Dayè outlet, through which they were swept away to sea. Thus the "Ogre's Isle" became British territory, and with it the little Hkoung-say Gyoon. Nevertheless for many years water was still carried up to Mandalay for the thi'gyan daw gyee, till at last Pegu was annexed to the British crown. Then it seemed undignified to carry the sacred water, not only from the stranger's land, but so many miles through alien waters, and so it was necessary to seek for another place. Where could a better be found than the mighty Irrawaddy itself? Accordingly, since then, the necessary amount has been drawn from the centre of the river by the Yay-kyee-woon, a minister specially appointed for that purpose, and woe betide him if it does not raise a satisfactory lather!

As in so many other cases the amenities of the thiʼgyan pwè have led to the extorting of money. In the good old days, and in the country districts still, it was the practice for benevolent people to keep open house, and give food and dainties to all passers-by, with tea and flavoured drinks, cheroots and betel for those that preferred them. To lighten the expense contributions, called kè-boh, were invited from friends and neighbours, and out of this has sprung the system of blackmail prevalent in Rangoon, A