curry-stuffs and liquors, and, after the sacrifice, give a considerable share of these dainties, together with the animal's head, to the pūjāri, as well as a sum of money for making the pūja (worship) for them. Some of the ceremonies are worth recording. First the idol is washed in water, and a sandal spot is put on the forehead in the case of male deities, and a kunkuma spot in the case of females. Garlands are placed round the neck, and the bell is rung, while lamps are lighted all about. Then the deity's name is repeatedly invoked, accompanied by beating on the udukku. This is a small drum which tapers to a narrow waist in the middle, and is held in the left hand of the pūjāri with one end close to his left ear, while he taps on it with the fingers of his right hand. Not only is this primitive music pleasing to the ears of his barbarous audience, but, what is more important, it conveys the oracular communications of the god himself. By means of the end of the drum placed close to his ear, the pūjāri is enabled to hear what the god has to say of the predatory excursion which has taken place, and the pūjāri (who, like a clever gypsy, has taken care previously to get as much information of what has happened as possible) retails all that has occurred during the exploit to his wondering devotees. In case his information is incomplete, he is easily able to find out, by a few leading questions and a little cross-examination of these ignorant people, all that he needs to impress them with the idea that the god knows all about their transactions, having been present at their plundering bout. At all such sacrifices, it is a common custom to pour a little water over the sheep, to see if it will shake itself, this being invariably a sign of the deity's acceptance of the animal offered. In some sacrifices, if the sheep does not shake