systems of education are really as practically educa tive as the unsystematic transmission of accumulated knowledge and tradition which they have superseded.
The path along which I was walking was to all intents and purposes the main street of the village. On my right, a dozen feet away, the ground fell suddenly and perpendicularly to the brown waters of the Jělai, which at this point had cut for themselves a deep channel through the clay soil. Here and there the bank had been worn into a chenderong—a deep cleft formed by the buffaloes trampling their way down to water; and at regular intervals bathing rafts were moored, and rude steps had been cut to render them more easily accessible. On my left the thatched roofs of the Malayan houses showed in an irregular line running parallel to the river, amid groves of fruit trees and coco and areca mut palms. On the other side of the Jelai the jungle rose in a magnificent bank of vegetation eighty feet in height, sheer from the river's brink.
The glaring Malayan sun, sinking to its rest, blazed full in my eyes, dazzling me, and thus I saw but dimly the figure that crossed my path, heading for the running water on my right. Silhouetted blackly against the furnace mouth in the west it. appeared to be the form of a woman bowed nearly double beneath the weight of a burden slung in a cloth across her back-a burden far too heavy for her strength. This, however, is a sight that is only too common in Asiatic lands; for here, if man must idle and loaf, woman must work as well as weep, until
