the villagers had managed to keep body and soul together. Within a mango grove stood a little house. It was made up of four huts surrounded by a mud wall. The owner of the house had a cow, a goat, a peacock, a myna and a parrot. He had had a monkey too, but had let it off as he could feed it no longer. He had a husking mill, a granary and a lemon tree in the yard, with some malika and jasmine trees which had no flowers this year. On the veranda of each hut stood a spinning wheel. There were not many people in the house however. This was the house Jivananda entered with the child. On entering the house Jivananda began to make a horrid noise with a spinning wheel. The little girl had never in her life heard such noise. She was weeping since she had left her mother, and now began to cry lustily. Then a girl of seventeen or eighteen sum- mers came out of the room and putting the forefinger of her right hand on her cheek she bent her head and stood watching in wonder ; "La ! it's your brother ! why, what are you working the wheel for ? Where could you get the girl? Is it yours? Have you got one? Have you married again ?" she asked mischievously. Jivananda threw the child into her arms, showed her his fist, and said : " You wicked .wench, how dare you speak of my daughter. Am I a man to trifle with? Now go and see if you have got milk in the house." The girl answered : "Yes, I have ; would you take some ?" "Yes," replied Jivananda most seriously.
