soil nor Mollnai water."—And here Madan Babu was seized with a convulsion of laughter and coughing, and finally said—"Good! Wasn't it?"
When he had fully recovered, he said—"As you have not eaten Mollnai balls, you can't even imagine how good they are. Well, you wait until I return from Kasi. Can you not come there some Saturday or Sunday?"
"Easily."
"Very good, then come when I send you an invitation. I will send a bullock-carriage to the station to meet you. From Pundooah to Ilchoba is not far. I will give you Mollnai balls, and treat you to some country marmalade too."
Astonished, I exclaimed—"Country marmalade! What is that? I do not know it."
"Ah,"—said Madan Babu, laughing—"you are indeed a Calcutian, knowing of nothing beyond the Ditch. I fancy you have never seen the rice tree! It bears a red flower and the trunk of it is sawn into planks,"—and he fell into another fit of laughter and coughing. When better, he said—"Marmalade is only jam made from the bael fruit. You can obtain it in Calcutta also."
Taking a long pull at my cigar, I said—"Pardon me, but marmalade has nothing to do with the bael fruit."
