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his half-idiotic son took hold of the little flywheel, and it threw him over on a pile of sawed lumber. He had tried the trick several times before, and I had stopped him: but this time, as his father was there, he put on airs, and took hold of the wheel, and got what I had told him. This accident and the excitement of seeing the machinery running, brought on an attack of heart trouble with the old gentleman, and he fell dead on entering his palace. His body was kept one year, and then the funeral pile was built, and the body placed on the top, incased in a gold box or urn. Ten Buddhist priests stood in a row, having in their hands a heavy web of silk. It passed from the last one to the ground. On inquiring, I found that the sins of the man were passing from the body during the incantations of the priests, which never ceased until the pile was all ready for the torch to be applied by the King. This took three days and nights, during which there were theatres, juggling, all kinds of shows
