But Dana Da was dying of whiskey and opium in the
Englishman’s godown, and had small heart for
honors.
“They have been put to shame,” said he.
“Never was such a Sending. It has killed
me.”
“Nonsense,” said the Englishman, “you
are going to die, Dana Da, and that sort of stuff
must be left behind. I’ll admit that you
have made some queer things come about. Tell
me honestly, now, how was it done?”
“Give me ten more rupees,” said Dana Da,
faintly, “and if I die before I spend them,
bury them with me.” The silver was counted
out while Dana Da was fighting with Death. His
hand closed upon the money and he smiled a grim smile.
“Bend low,” he whispered. The Englishman
bent.
“Bunnia—Mission—school
—expelled—box-wallah
(peddler)—Ceylon pearl-merchant—all
mine English education—out-casted, and made
up name Dana Da—England with American thought-reading
man and—and—you gave me ten
rupees several times—I gave the Sahib’s
bearer two-eight a month for cats—little,
little cats. I wrote, and he put them about—very
clever man. Very few kittens now in the bazar.
Ask Lone Sahib’s sweeper’s wife.”
So saying, Dana Da gasped and passed away into a land
where, if all be true, there are no materializations
and the making of new creeds is discouraged.
But consider the gorgeous simplicity of it all!
Then she let them down by a cord through the window;
for her house was upon the town-wall, and she dwelt
upon the wall.—Joshua ii. 15.
Lalun is a member of the most ancient profession in
the world. Lilith was her very-great-grandmamma,
and that was before the days of Eve as every one knows.
In the West, people say rude things about Lalun’s
profession, and write lectures about it, and distribute
the lectures to young persons in order that Morality
may be preserved. In the East where the profession
is hereditary, descending from mother to daughter,
nobody writes lectures or takes any notice; and that
is a distinct proof of the inability of the East to
manage its own affairs.
Lalun’s real husband, for even ladies of Lalun’s
profession in the East must have husbands, was a big
jujube-tree. Her Mamma, who had married a fig-tree,
spent ten thousand rupees on Lalun’s wedding,
which was blessed by forty-seven clergymen of Mamma’s
church, and distributed five thousand rupees in charity
to the poor. And that was the custom of the land.
The advantages of having a jujube-tree for a husband
are obvious. You cannot hurt his feelings, and
he looks imposing.
Lalun’s husband stood on the plain outside the
City walls, and Lalun’s house was upon the east
wall facing the river. If you fell from the broad
window-seat you dropped thirty feet sheer into the
City Ditch. But if you stayed where you should
and looked forth, you saw all the cattle of the City
being driven down to water, the students of the Government
College playing cricket, the high grass and trees
that fringed the river-bank, the great sand bars that
ribbed the river, the red tombs of dead Emperors beyond
the river, and very far away through the blue heat-haze,
a glint of the snows of the Himalayas.
