mathematicians might think of it, it is a well-known fact that the Márwári and the Márwáran between them spend exactly a half of what the Máwári used to spend singly. This may be a lesson to Miss Susie Trots, the railway-guard's wife. The Márwáran is not visible to the vulgar gaze, except during the Holi holidays. She is then in her element. She squirts paint and water on the gallants that serenade her, and gives them back joke for joke with the keenest relish. But all this while her face is veiled. In fact, few young Márwárans are seen unveiled. And those who know are of opinion that it is a mercy the Márwáran does not show herself to the public in all the reality of her swarthy countenance.
But by no fair Hinduáni are the joys of the Shráwan Más drunk with such avidity as by your Vaishnava lasses—the Bháttia and Baniá females. To them it is a month of love and liberty. And, thanks to the pious Máhárájs, the month passes as swiftly as a dream. Wife, widow, and maiden, each has the jolliest time of it in Shráwan. There are the dances to be danced before the Máháráj, plays to be played, songs to be sung; his Holiness to be washed and dressed and fed. Oh, the joys of Shráwan!—to the Vaishnavas. The
