came to the tree, and began smoking with his companions. The eldest of the party said to the other two, "Brothers, let us all bathe and get ready for bhát (boiled rice), as Málati must soon be here." Mánik replied, "Very well, Gayárám," addressing the youngest of the three, "you had better rub your body with oil." Gayárám replied, "Let brother Badan begin."

I need scarcely tell the reader that these three persons were brothers. The eldest, Badan, who was about thirty years old, was the head of the family.. Mánik, the second brother, was about twenty-five years of age, and the third, Gayárám, about twenty. Gayárám had charge of the cows which were grazing, and the two elder brothers had come to work with the plough. They had no other clothing than a simple dhuti, about four yards long and a yard broad, wrapped round their waists, and descending a little below the knees. The rest of the body was quite bare; they had nothing on their heads, and as for shoes, they had never used any since the day of their birth. The poet Hesiod advises the Boeotian peasant to sow naked, to plough naked,

and to reap naked, but this exhortation of the Theban bard hardly applies to the Bengal ráiyat, as he is always in a state of semi-nudity. Each of the three brothers, however, had a spare piece of cloth called gámchhá, or bathing towel, about three cubits long and a cubit and a half broad. The gámchhá is indispensable to every Hindu peasant of Bengal, as he bathes every day in the year. But besides its use in bathing, it serves a variety of purposes. It acts as a wrapper for the head, to protect it from the sun; sometimes it serves the purpose of a chadar, or sheet, when it is placed on the shoulder; sometimes it does duty for a belt round the waist, and it is always handy for tying up anything in it, as the Bengal peasant has no pockets.

Badan was of the average height of a Bengali, strong-built, had a rather high forehead, and large, bright eyes, and his body, especially his chest, was thickly covered with hair. Gayárám resembled Badan in features, though they had not become so hard through toil.

Mánik was quite different from the other two;

and no one that did not know him could ever suppose from his look that he was the brother of Badan and Gayárám. His complexion was much darker than that of the other two, it was deep ebony, or rather, glossy Day and Martin; indeed, he had the darkest complexion of anyone in the village, and it was in consequence of this circumstance, that, although his name was Mánik, or the jewel, he was universally called Kálamánik, or the Black Jewel. He was taller than the average run of his countrymen, being upwards of six feet high; he had a large head of hair which was not parted, which never had come in contact with a comb, and which stood erect like the bristles of a porcupine; his mouth was wider than that of most men, and, when open, discovered two rows of ivorywhite teeth, so big in size that his friends compared them to the hoe with which he was so familiar as an implement of husbandry. His arms were of such length that when he stood bolt upright the tips of his fingers reached his knee-joints. On each shoulder there was a hump, not unlike that of a Bráhmini bull, an aggregation of flesh generally owned by Pálki bearers and other persons accustomed to carry heavy

VOL. I.

D

loads on their shoulders. His feet were not straight, but took the shape of an arc of a circle. The toes, which closely stuck to one another, were all bent towards the big toe; and he could never move two paces, but some of his toes cracked and gave out a peculiar kind of music. It may be easily conceived that a gigantic figure, upwards of six feet in height, of ebony complexion, wide-mouthed, hoe-toothed, high-shouldered, long-armed, and splay-footed, was not "a thing of beauty," and therefore not " a joy for ever. He was an object of terror to all the children of the village, who, when fractious, used invariably to be quiet when they were told that Kálamánik was coming. Nor had the maidens of the village better regard for him. Badan was anxious that Kálamánik should enjoy connubial felicity: but though he easily succeeded in getting a wife for his youngest brother Gayárám, no parents in wide Kánchanpur, or in any village twenty miles around, could be persuaded to bestow the hand of their daughter on the Black Jewel. Kálamánik was more simple than most of his class—indeed, it was generally asserted that he was somewhat silly; but this mental

defect was amply compensated by his great physical strength and courage. He was the swiftest runner, the fastest swimmer, and the best wrestler in the village; he could stop a huge Brahmini bull, when running in fury, by catching hold of its horns; he could carry on his head a whole stack of paddy sheaves; and in every village fray he always stood in the fore-front, and manipulated his club with the strength of Hercules and the unerring precision of Yama himself. Such was the Black Jewel of the Golden City, the uncle of our hero.

After the short conversation given above, Badan took hold of a bamboo phial which was lying on the ground, poured from it on the palm of his hand a quantity of mustard oil, and besmeared with it every part of his body, the hair not excepted, not forgetting at the same time to push a little of the oil into the nostrils and the ears. Kálamánik and Gayárám followed suit. They then bathed in the adjoining pool. Kálamánik enjoyed a swim. He plunged headlong into the water:

His ebon tresses and his swarthy cheek

Instant emerge; and though the obedient wave,