full red and yellow petticoat, stretched out like a fan, and many times wider than the height of the idol.
This is the second time I have seen a place consecrated to these images. The worship is very impure, I am told; and, in spite of the holy character of the priest, histories are whispered about which account for the marvellous properties of the seeds of the peepul-tree. Women principally worship at this shrine.
The circular temple above the well, to which there is a grating, contains either the gosāin's money or zenāna, or both: he would not allow us to take a view of the interior. On the outside, at the foot of the temple, is a neglected and broken image, in stone, of Varaha, the avatār of Vishnoo with the head of a boar.
Whilst sketching the temple, we remarked its strong resemblance to the temple of the Sibyl, and were greatly surprised at its Ionic style of architecture.
On my return to England, a gentleman, seeing the sketch, said, "You must have painted from imagination, no such architecture is in the East." This remark annoyed me. I defended the truth and faithfulness of my pencil, and determined, should fate ever carry me back to the ancient city of Prāg, to pay most particular attention to the architecture, and to re-sketch the temple. The mystery of its similarity to that of the Sibyl will be explained hereafter.
I must give a specimen of the natives. I asked the man who has the charge of the rabbits, why a remarkably handsome buck was missing, and a white doe was in its place?
The man vowed that "the day being extremely hot, the sun had turned the black buck white, and had altered the sex also!" I called a chaprāsī, desired him to pay the man's wages, deducting the value of the buck, and turn him out of my service: his penitence and recantation were in vain. "I wish you would give me a beating, and let me remain in your service," said the man. "You may have a beating if you wish it," said I, "but unless it changes your sex, you shall not remain in my service."
