ntil 8 or 9 p.m., when he again returns home to a frugal supper
of "khichdi." It is hardly a satisfying meal, and many young Memons indulge
in a fresh collation before retiring to rest. The "khichdi" finished, the
young members of the family set forth for their evening resorts, nor
forbear to take such refreshment as the city offers on their journey. They
purchase a glass of ice-cream here, accept a cup of tea offered by a friend
there or purchase a tumbler of "faludah," which plays the same part in the
Mahomedan life of Bombay as macaroni does in the life of the Neapolitan. It
consists of rice-gruel, cooked and allowed to cool in large copper-trays
and sold at the corners of Mahomedan streets. On receiving a demand, the
Faludah-seller cuts out a slice from the seemingly frozen mass, puts it
into a large tumbler mixes sugar and sherbet with it, and then hands it to
his customer who swallows the mixture with every sign of deep satisfaction.
If possessed of a conveyance the middle-class Memon will drive about sunset
to the Apollo Bunder, Breach Candy or the Bandstand. Happy possessor of a
tolerably decent horse and victoria, he considers himself above the
conventionalities of dress, and thus may be seen in the skull-cap,
waist-coat, long white shirt and trousers which constitute his shop or
business-attire, attended not infrequently by little miniatures of himself
in similar garb. Reaching the Bunder he silences the importunity of the
children by a liberal purchase of salted almonds and pistachios or grain
fried in oil, and passes an hour or so in discussing with a friend the
market-rate of grain, cotton, _ghi_, or indigo.

If young, the middle-class Memon and Rangari is fond of the native theatres
where he rewards Parsi histrionic talent by assiduous attention and
exclamations of approval. He and his friends break their journey home by a
visit to an Irani or Anglo-Indian soda-water shop, where they repeat the
monotonous strain of the theatre songs and assure themselves of the
happiness of the moment by asking one another again and again:--"Kevi
majha" (what bliss!) to which comes the reply "Ghani majha" or "sari majha"
(great bliss!). Then perhaps, if the night is still young, they will knock
up the household of a singer and demand a song or two from her. Phryne
cannot refuse, however late the hour may be, but she has her revenge by
charging a very high price for her songs, which her "ustads" or musicians
take care to pock