unhappy family. Oh, you putrescent carcase," broke out the Collector, half laughing.
The butler was immediately sent with instructions to take the "beast" home, lest he should die of fright before the Magistrate whom he had so often feted.
His Decline and Fall.
Khán Báhádur Jamál was done for. He took to his bed. He would see nobody (except his nautch girls). He would eat nothing (except sweetmeats). No, no; he had done with life. But he had still about a lakh of rupees left, safely invested by the Mehtá. He withdrew this sum, and left it with a Bombay firm which promised 12 per cent, interest. In about six months the firm broke, and it was with immense difficulty Jamál could get back about 40,000. This, with a couple of bungalows, is all that is now left to Khán Báhádur Jamál Gotá. He now leads a retired life, away from his family, whom he has altogether discarded. But, indulgent father as he is, he has still "kept his son's saláms," he explains to friends—that is, once a year his sons go to salám him from a distance, in the faint hope of getting a hundred or two from the un-
