grain and banana leaves, he dealt out a quotum of each to the servants.
"Now," he said, "you will masticate the rice for a minute thoroughly and then drop the result on your leaves. I warn you that it will be deadly poison for the thief." All obeyed with alacrity, and Gobardhan, after examining the contents of each leaf, assured Jadu Babu that the jasam had not been stolen.
My readers who are versed in science will understand that, in point of fact, there is nothing magical about this rite, which is based on the circumstance that fear checks the flow of saliva. In all probability a thief would eject the rice absolutely dry.
The inference was that the jasam had been mislaid; and Jadu Babu asked whether Gobardhan's lore was equal to recovering it.
"Possibly," answered the astrologer, "but it is not a case of Báti Chálá; if you can guarantee me Rs. 10, I will perform Nákha Darpan (literally 'nail-mirror'). Let me have an almanac, please, to find an auspicious day."
After examining it and receiving a ten-rupee note from Jadu Babu, the astrologer said oracularly that he would return on the following afternoon, with a lad of twelve, who had been born under the Constellation of the Scales.
At the appointed hour, Gobardhan came accom-
