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39 

(Here I turn the [[underlined]] Memoirs [[/underline]]  over to Dorothy.) 

"A wisp of sunlight, strayed from the western glory, crept into the Temple of the Spirits' Rest, and caught on the peaceful fingers of the Blessed One, at rest in the heart of the Lotus - 

"Suddenly the jovial, short-coated priest who had been joking and laughing stopped, and looking at the sunlight said, 

"'It is the hour.' 

"He moved with a briskness that contrasted strangely with the quiet of the the great temple where a silent bell, a silent crimson drum, the wistful wreaths of smoke from fragrant incense and the three great golden images were patient and still. 

"'It is the hour,' he called, and another grey robed figure came to help him prepare the lofty temple for the evening vespers. 

"The great lamp of amber oil that burns before Gotama was slowly lowered and a new wick lit. The flame was garnet and the Buddha's eyes were glad when it was raised until it brightened the blue jewel in his forehead, 

"The great bell was struck three times, and slow sighing tones rose among the red pillars and joined the mourning of white pigeons in the rafters. 

"Chips of sandalwood were lit in the ^[[insert]] hot [[/insert]] ashes of incense. Red candles lit the gilded tables of sacrifice. 

"The priests did not speak. They hurried as if this were a welcome break in the monotony of the day. 

"A bowl of paper money was prepared, to ascend in quick flames for the honor of the Blessed One, and palm leaf fans were placed in piles on the two side offering boxes. 

"The two priests kicked the brown fiber hasssocks into line as they went to put on their long