young duck with the megrims. 'Tis comical. But feed it well, wife; if 'twere a calf I would hold it over-thin. Young things need fat. Do as the mother bids thee, and 'tis sure to thrive. Had she not daughters of her own in her time?" His voice had a ring of appeal in it.

"Aye, and some of them in man's guise," muttered the old lady as she watched him bending over the baby. Nevertheless, she spoke more softly as she bade him get to his fields, the proper place for a man.

"True, mother, true," he assented happily, as he went to the door with her. "And there is no place I like so well. 'Tis good to stand knee-deep in young corn when it grows blue-green, as this year. Thou shouldst see it in the dip by the sandy bottom. And see the dappled sky like a partridge breast, auguring more rain. A good harvest, mother! A good harvest and new dresses--"

She checked him. "Nay, Gunesh, there is the new wife to think of first. Good harvest days are good wedding days."

They were beyond ear-shot, and yet the man gave a quick glance at the woman within.

"Hush, mother, hush!" he said, almost in a whisper. "Should a man take the name of another woman in his mouth, with the cry of a month-old babe in his ear? There is time yet."

"Time!" she echoed. "Time, indeed! 'Tis not time, but will, is wanting. Get thee gone to thy fields--thank Heaven thou art not a ninny there--for see, yonder comes Kishnu to the reception, bringing all her three. The jade! 'Tis only to crow over our girl!"

Gunesh tried to frown as he stood irresolute, but his mild face refused the task.

"May be, mother," he replied simply, "yet were the boys mine I would take them wherever I went, crow or no crow. They are so sweet."

His mother stamped her foot. "Aye, aye! Sweet for sure. And will not the eldest make a fine lumberdar? Folk might almost deem him thy son."

"I could wish none better."

Foiled by his gentleness, she watched his tall figure go down the alley for a minute, and then began the attack in a more promising quarter.

"Here comes Kishnu, Veru. Did I not say she would be the first? The crowing cock loves early hours. She hath her three with her, and Gunesh, poor soul, must needs stop and fondle them. He loves those boys; and who can blame him? Sure, a man's 

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