I left Baba at the foot of the Devon lane leading up to the Ashram. News spread fast up to the house and before long many were rushing down the lane to meet Baba. Kenneth Ross played bagpipes to greet him. The reporters still remained, anxious to take a photo. This they did on Baba's arrival at the house. Baba had intended to change into his Indian robes to arrive in but the lane was so muddy. However, he changed into these on arrival and was photographed in them amidst many of his Western disciples and, also, with those of the East who had arrived a day previously. Their joy to once again see their Master! To them it was a painful separation even for these few hours from the previous afternoon. But as always, they seemed so glad for Baba to be loved and surrounded by those from the West. Chanji, in particular, urged us at all times to draw near and sit close; or, if both sides were taken, then to sit at his feet, always a favorite spot in the East. Also, if you sat there, you could serve Baba too, as he always liked the sole of his foot pressed inwards, some-times for hours at a time. This he found soothing and restful.

Baba spent his time — seven days exactly — largely in meeting those whom Meredith had brought together the last two years while running the retreat for Baba. Since Baba's last visit a year ago, a large new stone bungalow had been built to accommodate members. The bungalow consisted of one large sitting room, kitchen, and sleeping accommodations for about six. To the left of it, tents had been erected to accommodate about six. Others slept at another farmhouse on the same land; others less fortunate had to sleep in the village. It is a wonderful privilege to sleep even within a certain radius of a Master and those able to do so were fortunate. How very fortunate then were some of us who had a room in the same farmhouse Baba was in!

One felt sorry for the boys from the East who all slept in the cold bungalow away from Baba. How they suffered from the cold! On the whole, we had lovely spring weather. It was April. The violets, snow-drops, and daffodils were all coming out, as were the primroses. Each afternoon, Baba went out over hill and dale so free, with his hair loose — with all who wished, following. On one occasion we brought him a little lamb; he took it up in his arms, it was so tame. This scene was photographed and is in our possession.

Another afternoon we all went down to the beach and sat on the rocks, and played games while some bathed. How thoughtful Baba was on these occasions — to give a helping hand to the less strong, either going up or down — waiting to actually help one or another across a ditch or slippery patch. He would know without our mentioning it that we had walked enough and would tell one to wait at a certain spot, leaving another in charge, and not descend to the very bottom but to await there the return up again of the rest. On the walk there would always be