"Marmalade! Marmalade! Give me a taste of that, I have never eaten it."
I gave him. When he had finished, he washed his mouth and fingers with a tumbler of water, leaning out through the window; then draping himself with the shawls he sat down, squatting on the bench. I was about to give him another cigar, but he said—"No, I will prepare my hookah. Nothing can compare with the hookah, brother!"
When he had filled the bowl, I said—"You did not tell me that story of the Mollnai balls."
"True, I was forgetting. This is not a story of our time, but of days gone by. The Maharaja of Burdwan had a great relish for Mollnai balls, so he gave an order that the best confectioner at Mollnai should be brought to Burdwan, and told to prepare the balls. A king's order cannot be disputed, so the chief confectioner arrived at Burdwan with his pots and pans. He prepared the balls, but they had not the same flavour. The Maharaja said—'Well, Confectioner, these are not like the others.' The confectioner, folding his hands together (here Madan Babu illustrates the action with his own hands) said, 'Shall I speak plainly, Maharaja—without fear?' The Raja answered—'Speak fearlessly.' The confectioner said—'Maharaja, you have had me brought here from Mollnai, but you have brought neither Mollnai
