SOCIAL LIFE
Property--Slavery--Utilitarian morals--A bashful race--The
Levirate--Law and custom--An amateur arbitrator--Principles and
practice of the Ordeal.
The Moï who inhabit the more northerly portion of this country have
largely fallen under the domination of their neighbours the Laotians.
In the south, however, in spite of their proximity to the warlike and
powerful Annamites, the Moï have, to a large degree, resisted
absorption and preserved their independence. Consequently their
immemorial institutions have survived the chances and changes of the
centuries without appreciable modification.
The unit of administration is the village, which forms a kind of
anarchical republic with a nominal chief who is elected. As a general
rule these shadow potentates are chosen either for their physical
prowess or reputed moral superiority. The Chief's powers are not
transferable and lapse on his death.
It sometimes happens that several villages of the same region are
united by community of interests or family alliances. The union is
then cemented by the formation of a league with a view to defence
against common enemies. From such associations for mutual insurance
the tribe takes its origin. In many cases one of the first signs that
this new organization has become a social or political entity is the
appearance of an obligation on its members to intermarry.
It is well known that in the primitive ages of the Aryan races the
tribesmen were not only shepherds rather than warriors but also
essentially nomadic in habit. It was in the character of
owners-in-common that they held the land on which they pastured their
flocks. Later, when they began to settle in defined localities to till
the soil, the ownership of property ceased to be collective. As
population and the area under cultivation increased, private property
appeared at first as the right of the family and finally as the right
of the individual.
Even to-day, however, we see traces of such primitive collectivism in
the "Mir" of Russia, the "Dessa" of Java, and the "Zadruga" of
Bulgaria. The peculiarity of the Moï is that they exhibit the three
forms of ownership, collective, family, and individual, in
conjunction.
Evidence of the communistic basis of their proprietary system is
plentiful and cumulative. The whole group takes part in the
acquisition and development of a tract of land sufficient to satisfy
all their needs. The trophies of war, the spoils of the chase and the
harvests are divided equally among those entitled to them. Inequality
of distribution is almost unknown. The Chief reserves a portion in
addition to his own to offer as a sacrifice to the Spirits or to
dispense in hospitality to strangers.
There is equally strong evidence of the system of family ownership of
property. Every family has its private residence and household
implements. This economic dispensation accounts for differences of
wealth and station among members of the same communal group. For
example a family in which there are many grown-up girls will become
rich on the proceeds of their skill in weaving, pot-making, and other
spheres of activity.
The individual ownership of property seems to be confined to
jewellery, pipes, weapons, and similar objects which any man can make
for himself. Further, any member of the group is entitled to do what
he likes with the portion of food distributed to him. In most cases if
he does not consume it himself he will lend it to some less thrifty
neighbour who finds his store exhausted. If the day for repayment
comes round and the liability is not discharged, the borrower, his
wife and children, become the absolute property of the lender whose
sole obligation is to support them. The debtor thus becomes a slave,
or rather, to speak more accurately, a servant for life. It is not at
all unusual in times of great scarcity for the Moï to sell both
themselves and their families when faced with the prospect of
starvation. These facts are well known to our Government, which is
powerless to prevent such evils so long as the imperfect means of
communication prevent the easy transport of food supplies from a
fertile region to a famine-stricken province.
Trading in slaves is prohibited, but there is no doubt that it goes on
in secret.
In principle the debtor-slave can procure his own redemption by his
own labour. But the value of that labour is calculated by the master
and at so ridiculous a figure that in practice hardly any slave earns
his freedom before his death. The annual value of the labour of a
strong man is reckoned at about five francs more than the cost of his
support. Further, if a slave does not satisfy his master he may be
resold at a price which represents an increase of twenty-five per
cent. on the original debt.
The system may truly be described as in every sense an exploitation of
human misery. At the current rate of calculation it may take several
generations of sufferers to pay off the first debt.
In theory there is another mode of redemption. On his master's death a
slave can recover his liberty by sacrificing a buffalo and placing a
small portion of the flesh in the mouth of the deceased. The mere idea
of a debtor-slave having the means to buy a buffalo is one to provoke
bitter mirth!
[Illustration: A Little Kha (Slave Girl).]
[Illustration: Our Native Prisoners.]
[Illustration: The Village Musician serenading a Young Couple about to
be married.]
Any reform should aim at an equitable calculation of the value of the
services rendered and the rate of interest should be drastically
revised. This rate, which is extremely exorbitant, soon trebles and
even quadruples the amount of the original debt. It is to be noted,
however, that a slave shares in the family life, is consulted in any
crisis that may arise, and, if a woman, may inherit. Cruelty and
ill-usage are rare, and even where they exist there is some safeguard
in the slave's right of appeal to the village Elders.
A female slave is protected against any abuse of authority by her
master. If he violates her she is freed at once by the act.
In Babylon the law was equally favourable to slaves and even went so
far as to permit them to contract independently of their masters under
the ingenious system of _peculium_. It was also quite usual for anyone
to escape from an embarrassing financial position by entering on a
kind of voluntary servitude which could be terminated in time by
payment of a sum for redemption out of the earnings of the service.
Further, it was enacted by Hammurabi's code, two thousand years before
the Christian era, that a creditor, after three years, must set free
the wife or daughter of his debtor if he had accepted them as sureties
for the debt.
The laws of the Hebrews likewise permitted an insolvent debtor to sell
himself and his family into bondage to extinguish a debt. A peculiar
feature in this case was the debtor's right to sell his wife or
daughters and himself retain his liberty.
The laws of the Annamites forbid this same transaction, but there is
no doubt that it frequently takes place. Custom in these matters is
of far more force than the law, and the actual nature of the contract
is concealed under various disguises.
The Chinese code contains a special provision relating to "The letting
on hire of wives or daughters."
Another force working to the same end is the fact that in countries in
which individualistic ownership of land prevails, and where labour is
scarce the owner stops at nothing to increase the number of hands on
his estate. This necessity is the mother of all manner of abuses, to
which the weakest naturally fall victims.
The Sorcerers, for example, impose the most exorbitant fines on those
who have failed to carry out the least detail of the rites. A penalty
thus inflicted constitutes the delinquent to all intents and purposes
a slave of the offended Spirit. He has to place himself at the
disposal of the Sorcerer, the representative of the deity. Another
species of slavery is created by the capture of prisoners of war.
There are no provisions in law or custom for their redemption or
liberation except by way of exchange. Otherwise the servitude is
deemed perpetual.
The independent Moï have recourse to a raid on their neighbours, the
Annamites, when their stock of slaves falls low. The prisoner of war
is considered as belonging to an inferior order of creation with no
status and few rights. A woman may not marry and neither male nor
female may inherit; but the law contemplates the case of a free woman
marrying a male prisoner of war. The father and the male children
become the slaves of the woman. Female children are freed. If the
children are all boys or all girls they are divided and one half
become the slaves of the other.
In short, although less cruel and inhuman than wholesale slaughter,
slavery is one of the most blighting institutions in these barbarous
regions. The Moï prefer the milder to the more drastic treatment, not
from any motives of altruism but solely from considerations of
self-interest. The death of an individual for religious disobedience
or even the commission of a crime profits no one, but material
benefits accrue both to the private citizen and to the state from the
fine imposed or the services exacted as punishment. The most
superficial investigation reveals the essential utilitarianism of the
conception of justice which obtains among the Moï.
No less utilitarian is their conception of morality. They never ask
whether an act is good or bad in itself, for abstract standards of
right and wrong are unknown to them. They merely ask whether the act
is prejudicial to private or public well-being. It follows from this
that crimes against the individual are punished far less severely than
crimes against the state, and further that the most serious offences
are those which touch material prosperity and enjoyment. A theft of
rice from the public granary is punished by enslavement, for rice is
the staple food and an indispensable necessity to the whole group.
The same theft from a private individual is regarded only as a minor
offence punishable summarily by fine. In this case Society does not
suffer, or at least only indirectly and to an imperceptible degree.
In the same way a murderer receives no punishment if his act is one of
vengeance for a similar crime. He is exacting the price of blood, and
the blood-feud is recognized and approved. It is highly meritorious to
kill a foreigner or a public enemy, and the slayer becomes _ipso
facto_ a popular hero.
This conception of morality is the production of tradition and has
been influenced in various ways by the jurisdiction of the Sorcerers
over a number of offences, especially those relating to sex and
ritual.
It has long been popularly supposed that races in a rudimentary stage
of civilization enjoy absolute immunity from regulation in the matter
of sexual relations. Nothing could be further from the truth, the
evidence all pointing the other way. Indeed, paradoxical as it may
seem, it is none the less true that sexual relations of primitive
peoples are more restricted, more bound round by various
interdictions, than those of peoples which have reached a higher stage
of development. It is plain that we have often confused complete
sexual licence with the exercise of perfectly limited and defined
rights which are only permitted during certain public festivals. It is
only necessary in this connection to remind ourselves of the
Saturnalia in Rome.
The same error appears in the popular attitude towards polyandry,
which is frequently attributed to the moral abandonment of the women.
In reality the system is no less organized and regulated than that of
polygamy. Further, all educated travellers who have lived long enough
among primitive races to attain some degree of intimacy have expressed
surprise at their reticence in speaking of these matters. They display
the most marked repugnance to give any information about their women,
and if pressed to answer questions, take refuge in evasion or refuse
to continue the conversation.
It is only after years spent amongst them, and, after winning their
confidence, mainly by medical services, that a European can penetrate
at all into that region of mystery from which he is jealously
excluded.
Some of the following observations are the result of personal
investigation. Others are made on the authority of several of my
countrymen with the experience of a long residence in the country
behind them, while others again are founded on information supplied by
the natives which I have myself verified. Some of my remarks apply
only to a tribe or a particular region, but in many cases they hold
good of the whole group, and even of a wider circle, for it must never
be forgotten that resemblances are encountered everywhere between the
customs of these folk and those, not only of other peoples of the Far
East, but also of the semi-savages of Africa and Polynesia.
I have had occasion to speak before of the custom, practised by
several of the Moï tribes, of killing the firstborn if no one comes
forward to claim the paternity. Thanks to this convenient institution,
it is quite usual for a young girl to become a mother solely to prove
her fertility.
We find this same custom among the Bohindu of the Belgian Congo, where
the girls indulge in promiscuous prostitution until conception takes
place. This event guarantees them a husband, for sterility is a ground
for divorce, and the man looks upon fertility as the highest virtue in
a woman. Thus, calculated prostitution, if I may use the phrase, is
not regarded with disfavour by some primitive peoples. Where the
motive is other than the desire for maternity it is regarded merely as
mental aberration or weakness of mind. If a woman gives herself
without love, she is not a criminal but an idiot. The same attitude is
displayed by the Abahua of the Belgian Congo. Each time that we made
the acquaintance of a Moï tribe the Chief was careful to demonstrate
his hospitality by the offer of some female slaves instructed to put
themselves at our disposal. It seems that this act of courtesy is
invariably extended to strangers of their own race, and consequently
their astonishment was all the greater when we declined the honour.
This magnanimous custom is also found among several of the races which
inhabit equatorial Africa, notably the Medgé and the Mangbetù.
Incestuous relationships are by no means uncommon among the Moï. I
once spent several months in the village of Lebouy, where the chief
was the father of his daughter's children. Nor was any exception taken
to his action, which was regarded merely as the exercise of a right
which immemorial precedent had sanctioned.
These incestuous connections are by no means confined to the eastern
archipelago, but are constantly met with in Africa also. I need only
mention the Avura-Gura of the Congo as an example. It is a mere matter
of history that incest was practised and recognized by the royal
family in ancient Egypt. The most usual instance was a union between
sisters and brothers. The object, of course, was to ensure that the
royal blood should be transmitted from generation to generation
without any admixture of alien strains, and thus preserve its identity
with its true and first origin the union of a god and some creature,
such as the hawk or gryphon. The example of the princes soon found
imitators among their subjects, and after being confined to the
nobility and ruling classes, it spread among all orders of society. We
possess an accumulation of proof, which places the matter beyond
doubt, in the documents and inscriptions which archæological research
has brought to light.
By way of contrast, a custom obtains among certain groups in
Indo-China (though almost unknown elsewhere), especially the Man Coc,
and Man Pa Tong, which formally prohibits intercourse between a woman
and her father-in-law or uncles, and likewise between a man and his
mother-in-law, his aunts, or his sisters-in-law. I shall have occasion
further on to investigate this peculiar veto which is enforced by
certain African tribes also.
The Levirate (from "Levir," a brother-in-law, in Sanscrit _dêvar_) is
also found operating as a stringent injunction.
This, as everyone knows, takes its name from that law of Moses which
commanded a brother-in-law to marry his deceased brother's widow (in
cases where there had been no issue) in order to provide an heir to
the family and to perpetuate his name. It was a species of "adoption
beyond the tomb."
In the same way, there are laws among certain of the Moï tribes, such
as the Radé, by which a widow is compelled to remarry with some member
of her husband's family. Various reasons are assigned for this
injunction, but primarily it is dictated by a desire to secure the
inheritance to the family of the deceased.
I was told of several cases of bestiality which seemed to me, even if
proved, to present no features worthy of comment. Sexual perversions
of this character are not confined to any one country nor any one
period, and it is sufficient to remark that nearly every race has
legends of gods changing themselves into animals with the aim of
uniting themselves with mortals. These fables are not mere fictions of
a poet's brain but reminiscences of a distant period when Egyptians
and Greeks worshipped animal-gods whom superstition had endowed with
mortal offspring.
One fact which I was able to prove to my own satisfaction was the
dietary regulations to which pregnant women are subjected. Among the
prohibited foods at that period figures the flesh of all male animals
which have not been castrated. Here, without doubt, is an analogy with
the law of the Man-Coc that no sexual intercourse may take place after
the third month of pregnancy. In particular, the mother-to-be must
abstain from fat and green vegetables. She may undertake no kind of
work, not even the most trivial of household duties.
Like other races with a low degree of civilization, the Moï attribute
to physical excess of all kinds a loss of force which puts an
individual at a disadvantage in his contest with the powers of the
earth or the air. On this belief are based the rules which prescribe
the preparations of one who is about to face some judicial test or
ordeal. He must pass the previous night in a state of complete
abstinence, so that his moral and physical condition shall be perfect
for the trial he is to undergo. The golden rule is summed up in a
motto of the Adio of Central Africa: "No man may face the ordeal if
not pure in body and mind, sinless and unstained." It seems doubtful
whether the origin of this belief is religious or experimental. We
know that it flourished among the Egyptians from an early period.
It is impossible to obtain even the most superficial understanding of
many Moï laws and institutions without investigating the peculiar
conceptions of morality on which they are based.
A Moï woman appears before the Council of the Ancients with a charge
that some man has touched her without her consent. A fine is inflicted
on the accused varying in amount with the importance of the part of
the body which he touched. If there has been complete seduction and
the seducer refuses to marry the complainant the fine is doubled.
Perhaps it is a husband who complains that his wife has committed
adultery on three different occasions with three different men. He
himself will be punished, and the sentence will be accompanied by some
withering reflections on his incompetence and complacence, hardly
flattering to his vanity. I ought to add that this curious judicial
perversion is met with only on the shores of the great lakes, where
morals are less rigid than in other parts of Indo-China.
I was told that among a few groups adultery is not considered criminal
if the woman's accomplice is a relation of her husband. The Batua of
the Congo also seem to regard this as an extenuating circumstance, but
their neighbours, the Medgé and the Mangbetù, take a precisely
opposite view and rigorously forbid brothers to seduce each other's
wives. All the Moï consider it a gross aggravation of the offence if
the seducer takes advantage of the husband's absence in war or the
hunting-field.
I have already recorded that I was frequently prevailed on by the Moï
to act as arbitrator in their disputes. I have the gravest misgivings
that my judgments did more credit to my kindly intentions than to my
legal knowledge.
I always made a point of using all my resources to impress the
litigants with a due sense of the importance of the occasion and the
dignity of the tribunal.
A scarlet cloth is thrown over my folding table. Next the huge
blue-cotton umbrella, whose humble function is to protect our
theodolite from the sun's rays, is commandeered to shelter the
miserable packing-case which serves me for my curule chair. I don a
wide-brimmed Boer hat and my revolver-case is reverentially attached
to my belt by my boy, who is crier, clerk, and usher all in one.
To-day the case in the list is:
"Annamite _v._ Moï."
It would be altogether a miracle if the plaintiff did not herald his
appearance with a present of some kind, in this case chickens, eggs
and bananas. He is convulsed with astonishment when, incorruptible, I
reject his bribes. His ordinary judges, the Mandarins, have other and
better manners. They have not prepared him for such a rebuff.
The Moï, on the other hand, has brought nothing with which to seek my
favour. Perhaps he is too poor or perhaps he has already sufficient
faith in my impartiality.
The case opens with a recital of the facts in issue.
The Annamite tells his story first.
He bows three times, kisses the ground and remains on his knees
throughout the hearing in accordance with the procedure prescribed for
the plaintiff.
"I am a dealer in pigs," he tells me, "and I was bringing four
of them to market in the hills.
"While passing through this Moï village the heat and my
weariness compelled me to break my journey; so I sought out the
Pholy with a request for hospitality and the shelter of my pigs
in his sty. You may imagine my amazement when, on resuming my
journey, I discovered that my fine animals, all more than two
years old, were nowhere to be seen and had been replaced by
four miserable creatures which are hardly six weeks old.
"I demand therefore that the great soldier Mandarin shall
restore to me what is my own."
Questioned in turn, the defendant swears by the Spirit of the Hearth
that the plaintiff's story is a mere tissue of lies. His version is
that the Annamite took advantage of the previous night to steal some
of his young pigs which had got loose in the neighbourhood, and that,
failing to procure sufficient food for them, he had attempted to
exchange them legally for animals of greater value.
Under these perplexing circumstances I find Solomon's mantle weighing
heavily upon me.
Suddenly an inspiration comes to me, doubtless a gift from the Spirit
of the Hearth.
If the animals have really been stolen from the village they will
surely be able to return to their homes by themselves. They have
fasted since the morning and it will be strange if their empty
stomachs cannot spur their memories to something more than normal
activity.
Accordingly with the becoming solemnity of a just and wise judge, I
order the plaintiff to drive the four animals in dispute before him
through every street in the village. The procession forms up, the
Tribunal, strangely nervous as to the result of its experiment,
bringing up the rear.
The Annamite assumes a swaggering air and brandishes his whip like a
man sure of his facts, but a significant contraction of his eyebrows
gives me the impression that he is not wholeheartedly in agreement
with my plan. Sure enough, before the troupe has progressed more than
a few hundred yards, one of the pigs hesitates, sniffs suspiciously,
and wags its tail, then, uttering a vigorous grunt, dashes into a
stable with a certitude that leaves no doubt of its familiarity.
A few steps farther on a second animal repeats the comedy, with the
same features of hesitation, recognition, and precipitation. The
Annamite thrashes the air with his whip and swears by Buddha that he
is the victim of a pernicious conspiracy. All in vain. Soon all the
pigs have recovered their native haunts and there is nothing left for
him to drive. The Ministry of Justice has an easy task in constructing
a case against him and the impudent rascal is unanimously convicted of
theft, aggravated by abuse of hospitality. He thinks himself lucky to
escape with the loss of one of his gold rings as a fine and
compensation to the Head of the village.
I wonder if I was right?
Happily for my reputation as judge, this _cause célèbre_ was
positively my last appearance in the rôle. A few days afterwards I was
a spectator, by official invitation and on the principle of
reciprocity, at one of the native trials.
No luxurious court-house, no gilt and trappings here! The Pholy,
following the example of St. Louis, administers justice beneath a
sacred fig-tree--the most majestic object conceivable--beneath whose
all-embracing branches a concourse, vaster than any that throngs our
courts at a sensational trial, could find shelter. The chiefs surround
their President and form a truly imposing tribunal. The Sorcerer, too,
is there, and he will play the chief part to-day.
Some cattle have been stolen a week or so ago and every man suspects
his neighbour of the crime. The real malefactor, however, is known
only to the Spirits, and they alone can expose him. As their cares and
interests are too multifarious to permit them to appear in person on
the earth, our Sorcerer declares that they have assigned to him their
powers and functions for the occasion. To-day he will be their
mouthpiece. He takes an egg lightly between his thumb and first
finger, pressing the ends with two other fingers. At his request a
young assistant proclaims in a wailing voice the names of all the
neighbouring lands. He cannot believe, he tells us, that a fellow
countryman should be guilty of so dastardly an outrage. But the
recital is over and the egg has not trembled. There is nothing left
but to call out the name of his own village. Alas! No sooner are the
words uttered than an ominous crack is heard and a sticky yellow fluid
issues from the shell, now broken in two. Recourse must now be had to
the evidence. The circle of inquiry is narrowed and it only remains to
discover the guilty individual.
The first experiment has proved far too successful to be discarded in
favour of any innovation. An egg, balanced in the same way as before,
will be the sole cost of the continued investigation. The same
unsophisticated youth now proceeds to recite the names of all the
inhabitants of the village. In most cases he designates them by their
nicknames. The "Squirrel," the "Pagoda Cock" and the "Marabout" are at
present white as snow. They all appear to heave an immense sigh of
relief as their names are called out without any sign of expostulation
from the egg. It is plain that their belief in the justice of the
Spirits is far from profound. They lose no time in vanishing from the
scene.
Suddenly, just as the youthful voice proclaims "The Scorpion," the egg
unmistakably collapses. The malefactor thus indicated is a
broken-down old man, an object more of sympathy than of suspicion. His
rickety frame is supported with considerable difficulty by his legs,
which are swollen to an unnatural degree by gout. But the eye of the
Spirits is piercing, their justice unfailing. No escape for the guilty
is possible. However, as the accused protests his innocence with all
the emphasis at his command, the Pholy condescends to allow him to
prove it by submitting to the ordeal prescribed by the Gods. Two
alternatives are offered to him, the ordeal by water and that by
boiling resin, in which an innocent man may plunge his hand and
withdraw it unharmed.
"The Scorpion" is not slow to choose the former. The divine instrument
of trial is near at hand in the shape of a river which flows within a
short distance of the sacred judgment tree. While the preparations for
the ordeal are going forward, the accused asks for permission to make
a preliminary statement. If he can associate an accomplice with him in
the crime it will doubtless mitigate his punishment. Accordingly he
formally names another villager as his partner in transgression. The
alleged partner's vigorous denials are followed by immediate arrest.
The question now is as to the respective degrees of guilt, a point
which the river will ultimately settle. Two stakes are driven into the
middle of the stream at a point where the depth is about ten feet. The
unfortunate victims are conveyed by canoe to the spot and left
clinging desperately to the stakes while trying to keep their heads
under water as long as possible. The test is quite simple. The one who
loses his breath and comes up to the surface first stands convicted of
being the principal in the theft, while his larger-lunged rival is
cleared of everything save the charge of complicity.
In a few seconds the performance is over, for the unhappy "Scorpion,"
already paralysed by fear of the immersion, cannot hold his breath at
all, and bobs up to the surface immediately, half asphyxiated. The
Sorcerer, delighted at the result of his experiment, expresses his
appreciation in a series of approving gestures.
The principle of the ordeal rests on the belief, prevalent among the
great majority of half-civilized races, that the tutelary deity of any
individual withdraws his protection and assistance if his "ward" has
violated any of the fundamental principles of morality, or neglected
the rites and ceremonies enjoined by his religion.
This notion of loss of protection of a higher power may possibly be
associated with the vague idea of a conscience. It is certainly one of
the most curious conceptions which research into the science of
divination has brought to our notice. The submission of a suspected
criminal to trial by ordeal is an invitation to the Spirits to give a
manifestation of their desires.
There are many forms of this species of divine interrogatory, varying
in number and character in different parts of the world. Fifty
varieties at least are met with in Africa. It is not to be believed,
however, that every ordeal is dangerous or even necessarily harmful.
Many forms are known far less cruel than those which arrest the
imagination of the traveller by virtue of their more inhuman
incidents, such as the ordeal by boiling water, molten lead, or poison
dropped into the eyes.
Thus, among the Moï, a favourite ordeal is to compel the accused to
drink an excessive quantity of water or alcohol resulting in temporary
discomfort without danger or permanent injury.
In Africa cases are known where an ordeal is carried through without
the suspected criminal knowing of it. For example, it has been
considered sufficient to observe the direction in which the smoke of a
chimney is blown, or to set a trap in some place known to be
frequented by rats. The innocence or guilt of the accused will be
determined according to whether a rat is caught or not.
To judge by the enormous quantity of spirits consumed by the Moï I
should have said that this form of ordeal was the most frequent
incident of daily life. My flask of ammonia was in perpetual
requisition after I had, in an evil moment, revealed to them the
peculiar property of ammonia gas, which dissipates the fumes of
alcohol.
Perhaps I am doing my friends an injustice. Perhaps there was a more
edifying explanation of the run on my flask. May it not be that it
furnished a magic potion to some lover of the "bottle" with which to
renew his stock of dreams?
A psychologist friend of mine once said that man cannot do without his
"dream-world."
The Moï is no exception. He, too, needs an artificial paradise and
finds it in the bottle. He drinks to see life rosy!