THE SPORTS AND GAMES OF THE SINGHALESE. 27 



the almost malicious delight with which the usual old 

 songs are sung, or new ones improvised by the Captain of 

 the winners, and the perfect stoicism aad callous indiffer- 

 ence with which the humiliation of defeat and the degra- 

 dation of his position are submitted to by the loser, is the 

 most remarkable, though certainly the least attractive, fea- 

 ture of this game, and can hardly fail to merit the unqua- 

 lified condemnation of men whose ideas of yjctory are asso- 

 ciated with generosity towards a fallen foe. The songs 

 alluded to, not unusually degenerate into coarse ribaldry 

 and filthy obscenity, but how cruelly humiliating soever 

 they may be, the victim of defeat has to sit on the bridge 

 of cocoanut shells, which in this case has becomes a verita- 

 ble bridge of sighs, his head bowed down on his knees, and 

 submit with patient resignation to the sneers and jibes 

 of the victors, who, while they dance round him in savage 

 exultation, emphasize a more than ordinarily biting sar- 

 casm with a knock on his head. 



The following specimens of comparatively mild vitu- 

 peration, may serve to convey an idea of the wild latitude 

 of abuse, which the winners feel privileged to exercise* 



Hurrah ! hurrah ! we have won, hurrah ! 

 Hurrah ! hurrah ! exult over this fellow 

 Fellows ! let us give him a name, call him Rakossa 

 Fellows let us give him a name, call him Ugndnwa. 

 Fetch the conquering hero and seat him on his head. 

 Knock him on the head one, two, three and drive him away, 

 His head is hollow, crows have hatched their young there, 

 His mouth is foul, he has eaten Amu and madu leaves 

 From the Dolowewe Tom-tom-beater's garden 

 Did he not once steal cocoanuts, 



