warm socks. He seemed about fifty years of age. Quite a number of people had come with this gentleman and there was much luggage, which was now filling up the compartment. From below, somebody called out—"Have all the things have been put in? Count them over and see." At these words the Babu began to count the articles one by one in a loud voice, while at the same time the departure bell rang. After twice counting them over, he said—"Why, there are six only—weren't there seven?"—and the train began to move. The Babu suddenly thurst his head out of the window and called vociferously—"The handi! The handi!" A man was running with the train bearing the article to place it in his hand, but the Babu could not grasp it, and the earthenware fell to the ground. We heard the noise of the crash.
The gentleman—furiously angry—then sat down on the bench. Noting me as a senior amongst the young men present, he addressed me, saying—"Did you see, Sir? Did you see the whole business—he gave the handi and let it go?"
I felt amused at the man's appeal to me, and with difficulty repressing a smile, I asked—"What did the vessel contain?"
"Sir, there was food in it. A potful of food—two rupees worth of provisions fallen upon the platform and smeared with dust, and I have
