Literature of the month Kim by Rudyard Kipling
Kim laughed . “ He is new . Run to your mothers ’ laps , and be safe . Come !” Kim clicked round the self-registering turnstile ; the old man followed and halted amazed . In the entrance-hall stood the larger figures of the Greco-Buddhist sculptures done , savants know how long since , by forgotten workmen whose hands were feeling , and not unskilfully , for the mysteriously transmitted Grecian touch . There were hundreds of pieces , friezes of figures in relief , fragments of statues and slabs crowded with figures that had encrusted the brick walls of the Buddhist stupas and viharas of the North Country and now , dug up and labelled , made the pride of the Museum . In open-mouthed wonder the lama turned to this and that , and finally checked in rapt attention before a large alto-relief representing a coronation or apotheosis of the Lord Buddha . The Master was represented seated on a lotus the petals of which were so deeply undercut as to show almost detached . Round Him was an adoring hierarchy of kings , elders , and oldtime Buddhas . Below were lotus-covered waters with fishes and water-birds . Two butterfly-winged dewas held a wreath over His
head ; above them another pair supported an umbrella surmounted by the jewelled headdress of the Bodhisat . “ The Lord ! The Lord ! It is Sakya Muni himself ,” the lama half sobbed ; and under his breath began the wonderful Buddhist invocation : “ To Him the Way- the Law- Apart Whom Maya held beneath her heart Ananda ’ s Lord- the Bodhisat . “ And He is Here ! The Most Excellent Law is here also ! My pilgrimage is well begun . And what work ! What work !” “ Yonder is the Sahib ,” said Kim , and dodged sideways among the cases of the arts and manufacture wing . A white-bearded Englishman was looking at the lama , who gravely turned and saluted him and after some fumbling drew forth a notebook and a scrap of paper . “ Yes , that is my name ,” smiling at the clumsy , childish print . “ One of us who had made pilgrimage to the Holy Placeshe is now Abbot of the Lung-Cho Monastery- gave it me , stammered the lama . ” He spoke of these .” His lean hand moved tremulously round . " Welcome , then , O lama from Tibet . Here be the images , and I am here ” - he glanced at the lama ’ s face- “ to gather knowledge . Come to my office awhile .” The old man was trembling with excitement .
The doon mozaic