r, and other suitable furniture. Some pictures, not
English, hung upon the walls. Surja Mukhi and Nagendra together had
chosen the subjects, and caused them to be painted by a native artist,
who had been taught by an Englishman, and could draw well. Nagendra
had framed the pictures handsomely, and hung them on the walls. One
picture was taken from the Birth of Kartika: Siva, sunk in meditation,
on the summit of the hill; Nandi at the door of the arbour. On the
left Hembatra, finger on lip, is hushing the sounds of the garden. All
is still, the bees hid among the leaves, the deer reposing. At this
moment Madan (Cupid) enters to interrupt the meditation of Siva; with
him comes Spring. In advance, Parvati, wreathed with flowers, has come
to salute Siva. Uma's joyous face is bent in salutation, one knee
resting on the earth. This is the position depicted in the painting.
As she bends her head, one or two flowers escape from the wreaths
fastened in her hair. In the distance Cupid, half hidden by the woods,
one knee touching earth, his beauteous bow bent, is fitting to it the
flower-wreathed arrow.

In another picture, Ram, returning from Lanka with Janaki, both
sitting in a jewelled chariot, is coursing through the sky. Ram has
one hand on the shoulders of Janaki, with the other is pointing out
the beauties of the earth below. Around the chariot many-coloured
clouds, blue, red, and white, sail past in purple waves. Below, the
broad blue ocean heaves its billows, shining like heaps of diamonds in
the sun's rays. In the distance, opal-crowned Lanka, its rows of
palaces like golden peaks in the sun's light; the opposite shore
beautiful with tamal and palm trees. In the mid distance flocks of
swans are flying.

Another picture represents Subhadra with Arjuna in the chariot.
Countless Yadav soldiers, their flags streaming out against the gloomy
sky, are running after the chariot. Subhadra herself is driving, the
horses grinding the clouds with their hoofs. Subhadra, proud of her
skill, is looking round towards Arjuna, biting her lower lip with her
ivory teeth, her hair streaming in the chariot-created wind; two or
three braids moistened with perspiration lie in a curve on her
temples.

In another, Sakuntala, with the desire of seeing Dushmanta, is
pretending to take a thorn from her foot. Anasuya and Priamboda are
smiling. Sakuntala, between anger and shame will not raise her face.
She cannot look at Dushmanta, nor yet can sh