nade on their ample, capacious, middle regions. Their version is, that they give that exhilarating exercise to their progeny out of love (the venerable sinners!), but everybody knows it is all a sham. Well, then, one feels while walking the streets of Broach that he is hugging an old welcome friend, as if he were clasped in the arms of old Father Christmas, with a cloak of dust on his shoulders. Dear old hen-pecked Broach!
Yes, the science of henpeckery is carried here to perfection. It is studied universally. The town itself is henpecked by that termagant of a river, the Narbadá; the husbands are henpecked by their better-halves. Even the lower creation share the same fate; the dog, the horse, the bull, are tame as—a Turkish pasha; the other sex, bold, pushing, forward. Nay, even high Government officials do not escape this terrible discipline; their mistress, the Bombay Government, sits heavy on them.
I went a-marketing here, once upon a day, "in the merry month of May"; I approached