of liver! _Khoda rukho ki beebi-ka
kulle-jee bhee itui burri hoga!_[24]--I owe thee for a day of hospitable
edifications; and when thou comest to my country, thou shalt find _thy_
Heathen at Home.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] A long, round, narrow bolster, stuffed with very light materials
(often with paper), and not for the head, but embraced in the arms, so
as to help the sleeper to a cool and comfortable posture.
[4] Body-servants.
[5] A salutation of particular respect and well-wishing.
[6] Waistband.
[7] Destiny, fortune.
[8] A table-servant.
[9] A spiritual teacher.
[10] Writer, clerk.
[11] Banker, merchant in foreign trade.
[12] The fourth caste--originally laborers.
[13] A native gentleman, of wealth, education, and influence.
[14] Hostler and footman.
[15] Washerman.
[16] Sweeper.
[17] _Lit._ Fan-fellow.
[18] "Good! Bring the Europe-water,"--Bengali for soda-water.
[19] Showmen and puppet-dancers.
[20] Little shells, used as coins by the poorest people to make the
smallest change.
[21] Text.
[22] Dined.
[23] Pig, sot, and jungle-animal.
[24] "God grant the lady a substantial liver!"--"the happiness and
honors which should follow upon the birth of a male child being
figuratively comprehended in that liberality of the liver whence comes
the good digestion for which alone life is worth the
living."--_Child-Life by the Ganges_.
* * * * *
A FRIEND.
A friend!--It seems a simple boon to crave,--
An easy thing to have.
Yet our world differs somewhat from the days
Of the romancer's lays.
A friend? Why, _all_ are friends in Christian lands.
We smile and clasp the hands
With merry fellows o'er cigars and wine.
We breakfast, walk, and dine
With social men and women. Yes, we are friends;--
And there the music ends!
No close heart-heats,--a cool sweet ice-cream feast,--
Mild thaws, to say the least;--
The faint, slant smile of winter afternoons;--
The inconstant moods of moons,
Sometimes too late, sometimes too early rising,--
But for a night sufficing,
Showing a half-face, clouded, shy, and null,--
Once in a month at full,--
Lending to-night what from the sun they borrow,
Quenched in his light to-morrow.
If thou'rt my friend, show me the life that sleeps
Down in thy spirit's deeps.
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