rpipe with the new
tobacco. When I came to the Chubara the shaven head with the tuft
atop, and the beady black eyes looked out of the folds of the quilt
as a squirrel looks out from his nest, and Gobind was smiling while
the child played with his beard.

I would have said something friendly, but remembered in time that if
the child fell ill afterwards I should be credited with the Evil Eye,
and that is a horrible possession. 'Sit thou still, Thumbling,' I
said, as it made to get up and run away. 'Where is thy slate, and why
has the teacher let such an evil character loose on the streets when
there are no police to protect us weaklings? In which ward dost thou
try to break thy neck with flying kites from the house-top?'

'Nay, Sahib, nay,' said the child, burrowing its face into Gobind's
beard, and twisting uneasily. 'There was a holiday to-day among the
schools, and I do not always fly kites. I play ker-li-kit like the
rest.'

Cricket is the national game among the school-boys of the Punjab,
from the naked hedge-school children, who use an old kerosine-tin for
wicket, to the B.A.'s of the University, who compete for the
Championship belt.

'Thou play kerlikit! Thou art half the weight of the bat!' I said.

The child nodded resolutely. 'Yea, I _do_ play. _Perlay-ball. Ow-at!
Ran, ran, ran!_ I know it all.'

'But thou must not forget with all this to pray to the Gods
according to custom,' said Gobind, who did not altogether approve of
cricket and Western innovations.

'I do not forget,' said the child in a hushed voice.

'Also to give reverence to thy teacher, and'--

Gobind's voice softened--'to abstain from pulling holy men by the
beard, little badling. Eh, eh, eh?'

The child's face was altogether hidden in the great white beard, and
it began to whimper till Gobind soothed it as children are soothed
all the world over, with the promise of a story.

'I did not think to frighten thee, senseless little one. Look up! Am
I angry? Are, are, are! Shall I weep too, and of our tears make a
great pond and drown us both, and then thy father will never get
well, lacking thee to pull his beard? Peace, peace, and I will tell
thee of the Gods. Thou hast heard many tales?'

'Very many, father.'

'Now, this is a new one, which thou hast not heard. Long and long ago
when the Gods walked with men, as they do to-day, but that we have
not faith to see, Shiv, the greatest of Gods, and Parbati his wife,
were walking in the