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294 reminiscent of a Kaffir war-dance, the sole of one foot striking the floor to the accompaniment of a clash of cymbals as the other leapt into the air. Another priest played upon the cracked bell, and a third kept up a dull, monotonous thumping on the drum. The sole idea of the priests, as conveyed to my mind by their celebration, seemed to be the breaking up of the solemn silence of the night by the most amazing medley of noises. At intervals, in the course of the unmusical colloquy between the drums, the cymbals, and the big bell, the monks chanted their dirges, which were, in turn, punctuated by the dislocated tapping of the Abbot's brass bell and wooden knocker.

It was deafening, the most penetrating discord of which I have ever been the unfortunate auditor. With the conclusion of the exercises upon the cymbals, which were beaten together in a wide, circular sweep of the arms, then tossed aloft, caught, and clanged together after the fashion of the South African native with his spear and shield, the performing priest returned to the companion who relieved him. His more immediate activities over, he stood aside laughing and talking with his colleagues in a voice which quite drowned the chants in which his companions were engaged. Then, panting with his late exertions, he proceeded to fan himself with the most perfect unconcern, finally examining the hem of his jacket for lice; his search repaying him, he returned to his seat upon the floor and lifted up his voice with the others. After the sacrifices and prayers had been offered before the main altar and those upon the right and left, extra tables of fruit, apples, dates, nuts, cakes and incense, together with the previous dishes of rice, cakes, incense and bread, were spread before a