When I was at Hyderabad there was there, walking along the streets, a man carrying a bottle of spirituous liquor and a glass. He wore no clothes, nothing but a few rags wrapped about him. At every few steps he stopped, poured the spirits into the glass and drank; then he took another few steps, poured the spirits into the glass and drank again. A crowd of little boys followed him, and he put his hand into his rags, took out a handful of silver coins and scattered it among them, and went on a little further and did so again. Wherever he put his hand, he found the coins. Another day he would be seen in another street, in the same way. I had the craze of a curiosity for such things, but one would not like to go and speak to him, for everyone in the street was staring at him.