t the
Mother alone has power to allay grievous sickness.

XI.

SCENES IN BOMBAY.

A MUSULMAN HOLIDAY.

Nearly all the Mahomedan inhabitants of Bombay observe as a general picnic
day the last Wednesday of the month of 'Safar' which is known as 'Akhiri
Char Shamba' or 'Chela Budh'; for on this day the Prophet, convalescent
after a severe illness, hied him to a pleasance on the outskirts of Mecca.
During the greater portion of the previous night the women of the house are
astir, preparing sweetmeats and salt cakes, tinging their hands with henna,
bathing and donning new clothes and ornaments; and when morning comes, all
Mahomedans, rich and poor, set forth for the open grounds of Malabar Hill,
Mahalakshmi, Mahim or Bandora, the Victoria Gardens, or the ancient shrine
of Mama Hajiyani (Mother Pilgrim) which crowns the north end of the Hornby
Vellard. To the Victoria Gardens the tram cars bring hundreds of holiday-
makers, most of whom remain in the outer or free zone of the gardens and
help to illumine its grass plots and shady paths with the green, blue, pink
and yellow glories of their silk attire. Here a group of men and women are
enjoying a cold luncheon; there a small party of Memons are discussing
affairs over their 'bidis' while on all sides are children playing with the
paper toys, rattles and tin wheels which the hawkers offer at such seasons
of merry-making. Coal-black Africans, ruddy Pathans and yellow Bukharans
squat on the open turf to the west of the Victoria and Albert Museum;
Mughals in long loose coats and white arch-fronted turbans wander about
smoking cigars and chatting volubly, while Bombay Memons in gold turbans or
gold-brocade skullcaps, embroidered waistcoats and long white shirts stand
on guard over their romping children.

* * * * *

The road leading from Mahalakshmi to the shrine of Mama Hajiyani is
particularly gay, and the Vellard is lined throughout its entire length
with carriages full of men, women and children in their finest attire;
while under the palms on the east side of the road the hum of a great crowd
is broken from time to time by the cry of the sellers of sweets, toasted
grain, parched pistachio nuts and salted almonds, or by the chink of the
coffee seller's cups. A happy, orderly crowd it is, free from all signs of
quarrelling and excess, packed more densely than usual around the shrine of
Mama Hajiyani, where every little vacant space i