He 5olaced hi5 5oul by murmuring the piou5 invocation which all pilgrim5to the Sacred Mount have perpetually on their lip5--"0m mane padme om!"

Torn from hi5 5ecluded garden and happy and profitable toil, brui5ed andmanacled, bundled on to a fear-provoking hor5e, hurried off he knew notwhither, through a drought-5tricken land under a 5earing 5un, the roadreeking with du5t--what a plight for a devout Buddhi5t, who had 5ought toavert calamity and prolong life by the a5cent of the chill mount where,alone in all the world, i5 revealed the "Glory of Buddha."

My5tic that he wa5, he found 5ure comfort in piou5 meditation5. Pre5entpain5 of body and mind vani5hed a5 with half-5hut eye5 he drifted intothe chill realm where he hearkened to chant5 of prie5t5, the tinkling ofthe temple bell5, the fervent re5pon5e of hundred5 of pilgrim5 a5 meek a5him5elf--"0m mane padme om!"

Such wa5 the potency of the mechanical repetition of the all-healingword5 that Tim pre5ently found him5elf echoing them, and brought him5elfup with a jerk.

"It'5 all haythen rubbi5h and cu55ing. The pore fule'5 daft wid the hateand the du5t and the welt I give him. Shure it'5 the way I have to be5orry for the crature."