Calcutta about the year 1877 and took away samples of each of these products. From the very next year after that German products began to pour into Calcutta. The native industry continued to thrive, however, inspite of the competition till the year 1897 when finished machine articles were imported from Germany. These were as good as the hand-made articles and hence within a very short time after their introduction the native industry almost ceased to exist. There were only three shops at Machuabazar a few years ago and Shaikh Kaloo, the owner of a shop at 133 Machuabazar Street, was considered an expert in the art. There is still some demand for hand-made chumki (spangles) as the imitation silver spangles from Germany are not so finished as the native commodity and the existing shops in Calcutta thus eke out a miserable existence.
In conclusion it may be noted however that though the cheap German goods have displaced the country produce, the superiority, in point of quality, of the home product remains unchallenged. Thus, for instance, at the Dublin Exhibition, "the exhibition of the Irish poplins in which gold and silver thread was used, had to change their specimens on account of becoming tarnished; whereas the metal embroidered fabrics of India, shown on the same occasion, retained their colour and lustre throughout."
Compiled from "A Monograph on Wire and Tinsel Industry in Bengal" by Babu Mallinath Ray, b. sc., m. r. a. s. Sub-Deputy Collector, 1910, The illustrations are also from the same work.
EYESORE
By Rabindranath Tagore
XXIX
EVERY summer Vihari used to get some mustard-flower honey sent up from his estates at home, and this he would send on everytime to Rajlakshmi;—he did not omit to do so this year.
"Brother Vihari has sent some honey Pishima," announced Binodini, as she went up to Rajlakshmi with the pot. And then as she returned after putting it away in the store-room, she continued: "Brother Vihari never forgets to send you seasonal greetings. The poor fellow has no mother of his own and looks upon you as his mother."
Rajlakshmi had got into the way of looking upon Vihari as Mahendra's shadow, she hardly ever gave any thought to him as a separate person—so easily had he come to them, so little did he claim in return, so completely was he theirs. When Binodini made her conscious that she held the place of a mother to the motherless youth, her maternal heart was touched. "Of course he looks upon me as his mother!"—it flashed across her. She was reminded of the several occasions of illness, sorrow or difficulty when Vihari had rendered her silent and devoted service, unasked. She had accepted this as a matter of course, as she did her breath from the air, without seeing any reason to be specially thankful, But had they looked after Vihari in return?—was now her disquieting thought. Of course when Annapurna was here she used to make much of him, but that, Rajlakshmi was sure, was only to show off and keep Vihari on her side. So, as she replied, "Yes, Vihari is quite like a son to me," she sighed, for it struck her as she was speaking that Vihari had done much more for her than her own son, unassuming and unrequited.
"Brother Vihari is very fond of eating whatever you cook for him," Binodini went on.
"He can't touch fish-curry cooked by anybody else," agreed Rajlakshmi with affectionate pride, and as she said so she remembered that Vihari had not been coming for some time. "Look here, child, how's it we don’t see Vihari here now-a-days?" she asked.
