he thus spoke:

_Story of the Third Brahman_.

My name was originally Anantya; now all the world call me Betel Anantya,
and I will tell you how this nickname arose. My wife, having been long
detained at her father's house, on account of her youth, had cohabited
with me but about a month when, going to bed one evening, I happened to
say (carelessly, I believe), that all women were babblers. She retorted,
that she knew men who were not less babblers than women. I perceived at
once that she alluded to myself; and being somewhat piqued at the
sharpness of her retort, I said, "Now let us see which of us shall speak
first." "Agreed," quoth she; "but what shall be the forfeit?" "A leaf of
betel," said I. Our wager being thus made, we both addressed ourselves
to sleep, without speaking another word.

Next morning, as we did not appear at our usual hour, after some
interval, they called us, but got no answer. They again called, and then
roared stoutly at the door, but with no success. The alarm began to
spread in the house. They began to fear that we had died suddenly. The
carpenter was called with his tools. The door of our room was forced
open, and when they got in they were not a little surprised to find both
of us wide awake, in good health, and at our ease, though without the
faculty of speech. My mother was greatly alarmed, and gave loud vent to
her grief. All the Brahmans in the village, of both sexes, assembled, to
the number of one hundred; and after close examination, every one drew
his own conclusion on the accident which was supposed to have befallen
us. The greater number were of opinion that it could have arisen only
from the malevolence of some enemy who had availed himself of magical
incantations to injure us. For this reason, a famous magician was
called, to counteract the effects of the witchcraft, and to remove it.
As soon as he came, after steadfastly contemplating us for some time, he
began to try our pulses, by putting his finger on our wrists, on our
temples, on the heart, and on various other parts of the body; and after
a great variety of grimaces, the remembrance of which excites my
laughter, as often as I think of him, he decided that our malady arose
wholly from the effect of malevolence. He even gave the name of the
particular devil that possessed my wife and me and rendered us dumb. He
added that the devil was very stubborn and difficult to allay, and that
it would cost three or four pagodas for