‘You don’t speak my talk, do you, Councillor Sahib?’

‘No; I am sorry to say I do not,’ said the Legal Member.

‘Very well,’ said Tods, ‘I must fink in English.’

He spent a minute putting his ideas in order, and began very slowly, translating in his mind from the vernacular to English, as many Anglo-Indian children do.  You must remember that the Legal Member helped him on by questions when he halted, for Tods was not equal to the sustained flight of oratory that follows.

’Ditta Mull says, “This thing is the talk of a child, and was made up by fools.”  But I don’t think you are a fool, Councillor Sahib,’ said Tods hastily.  ’You caught my goat.  This is what Ditta Mull says—­’I am not a fool, and why should the Sirkar say I am a child?  I can see if the land is good and if the landlord is good.  If I am a fool, the sin is upon my own head.  For five years I take my ground for which I have saved money, and a wife I take too, and a little son is born.”  Ditta Mull has one daughter now, but he says he will have a son soon.  And he says, “At the end of five years, by this new bundobust, I must go.  If I do not go, I must get fresh seals and takkus-stamps on the papers, perhaps in the middle of the harvest, and to go to the law-courts once is wisdom, but to go twice is Jehannum.”  ‘That is quite true,’ explained Tods gravely.  ’All my friends say so.  And Ditta Mull says, “Always fresh takkus and paying money to vakils and chaprassis and law-courts every five years, or else the landlord makes me go.  Why do I want to go?  Am I a fool?  If I am a fool and do not know, after forty years, good land when I see it, let me die!  But if the new bundobust says for fifteen years, that is good and wise.  My little son is a man, and I am burnt, and he takes the ground or another ground, paying only once for the takkus-stamps on the papers, and his little son is born, and at the end of fifteen years is a man too.  But what profit is there in five years and fresh papers?  Nothing but dikh, trouble, dikh.  We are not young men who take these lands, but old ones—­not farmers, but tradesmen with a little money—­and for fifteen years we shall have peace.  Nor are we children that the Sirkar should treat us so."’

Here Tods stopped short, for the whole table were listening.  The Legal Member said to Tods, ‘Is that all?’

‘All I can remember,’ said Tods.  ’But you should see Ditta Mull’s big monkey.  It’s just like a Councillor Sahib.’

‘Tods!  Go to bed!’ said his father.

Tods gathered up his dressing-gown tail and departed.  The Legal Member brought his hand down on the table with a crash—­’By Jove!’ said the Legal Member, ’I believe the boy is right.  The short tenure is the weak point.’