CHAPTER VI.
Oh! Kokil! Sweet harbinger of spring! Sing out thy joyous lay; it ill becomes me to object, still would I counsel thee to choose aright thy times for song. It is not well to sing alike in season and out of season. See! after much search, I had found pen and ink, and after yet more labour, had collected my ideas, and had sat down to write in full detail the story of Krishna Kanta’s will, when from the sky comes kuhu! kuhu! kuhu! You have a fine voice, I admit, but that alone does not give you the right to call to any one you choose. However, with me, whose hairs are grey, and whose pen runs smoothly on, your calling matters little. But, see! when a man in youthful prime, worried with money matters, sits poring over his accounts, and racks his brain in vain attempts to set them straight, maybe, you, from the broken office wall, call out kuhu! How is he then
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