purchase some more at the hotel, and to ease my limbs by walking about until the last bell should be struck. When the train started I perceived that all the passengers had left but our two selves. Madan Gopal Babu, glacing at me, said—"Well Sadananda Babu—"
I interrupted him—"My name is Mahananda."
"Yes, to be sure! Well, Mahananda Babu, how far do you travel?"
"To Madhupur."
"I go to Kasi (Benares). You will soon arrive at your destination—a few hours only. But I must keep on through the night and all to-morrow. What can I live on through all the time I ask you? I shall not reach Kasi till the evening. Is not my mother staying there? She has lived there these three years. She has become old—past seventy—but she still rises early every morning to bathe in the Ganges at the Ghat of the Ten Horse Sacrifice, in winter, in summer, and in rain. Since last August she has been having slight attacks of fever. There is no cause for anxiety—still, hearing that she is ill, how can I stay at home? Our preceptor's second son is a professor at the Benares College, and dwells there with his family, so I have placed my mother in his care. He is a very worthy man. They say he has no equal in Kasi on qucstions of Logic. He
