His mother sets him down in the water (sometimes at the sea-beach, but oftener in the colder river water) and splashes the water up over him. The baby cries, but that makes no difference to the mother, she just goes on throwing the water on him. It would not trouble him so much, except that the river water is so cold for the little fellow. The water comes from the creeks in the shade of the big trees and the bush, so it is much colder than the sea-water. To put a finishing touch to the bath, the mother lays the baby on her hands and plunges him head first down through the water. The baby comes out of his bath clean, but he is so cold he is nearly blue. When you were a little baby, did you have a bath that way? When we were coming from Lolodorf, some Uganda people were going with our company to the beach. One man carried his baby, about a year old, in a deer-skin sling, supported on his right shoulder. The mother carried a load heavier than the baby, or she would have carried him. It rained for three hours and more, most of the time a heavy rain. The baby had no protection from the rain. He was as wet as cold water could make him for more than three hours. The rest could walk and keep warm, but he could not. He did not die, tho it seemed a wonder he did not.—Exchange.