alight, visiting the houses of loose women and creating a disturbance, pulling their hair about, burning their mosquito curtains, and plundering their dresses and ornaments. Sometimes, they would even insult a respectable girl. The people of the place were terribly annoyed at all this, but the young men only snapped their fingers at them in derision, and consigned them all to perdition.
Baburam Babu had been for some time in Calcutta on business. One day towards evening, a zenana palki was passing the Vaidyabati house. As soon as the young scoundrels saw it, they at once ran out, surrounded it, and commenced beating the palki-bearers, who thereupon set the palki down and ran for their lives. Opening the palki, they saw a beautiful young girl inside. Matilall ran forward, seized the girl's hand, and dragged her out of the palki trembling all over with confusion and fear. In vain she looked around her for help: she saw only pitiless dark space. Then weeping bitterly she called on the Almighty: "Oh Lord, protect the helpless young orphan! I am content to die, only grant that I may not lose my honour." As the young Babus were all struggling together to get possession of her, she fell to the ground; they then tried to drag her by main force into the house. Matilall's mother hastened outside in some trepidation when she heard the sound of the girl's weeping, and the miscreants thereupon took to their heels. Seeing the mistress of the house, the young girl fell at her feet and said in her distress: "Oh dear lady, protect my honour! You must be a devoted wife yourself." None but a faithful and virtuous wife can understand the danger of a virtuous woman. Baburam Babu's wife at once lifted the girl off the ground and wiped away her tears with the border of her sari, saying as she did so: "My dear child, do not weep, you have no further cause for fear; I will
