Before or near almost every house, raised on a single pole about as high as one's head, stood a little wooden house, having one small room opening on a little porch. In this porch and room you would always find a quantity of offerings—such curious ones, too, that you would be more sure than ever it was a doll's play-house, yet the grown-up members of the family had built them to secure the good-will of the spirit guarding the spot occupied by their dwelling.
A piece of board shaped something like the head of a spear, slips of cloth covered with written characters, little clay images of elephants, horses, men and women, rice, betel-nut, tobacco and flowers,—these would be offered, in addition to the wax tapers kept burning and food set out, if any of the family were sick.
The worshiping of these spirits is a kind of superstition that appears to have been handed down by the forefathers of the Siamese from the ancient times before the Buddhist religion, which throws no light upon it, was introduced into their country. As the people believe that these spirits can protect them from sickness during cholera-time, the offering-houses are well supplied, and the little sprites (had there been any) would not have lacked tobacco, betel, food and clothing, or clay horses to ride.
The temples of the idols and the priests were not forgotten in those days. The preaching-
