CHAPTER XVII.
BABURAM'S SECOND MARRIAGE.
There had been heavy rain in the night: the roads and ghâts was all muddy and wet: the sky was still overcast, and there were occasional distant rumblings of thunder: frogs croaked everywhere in loud chorus. The shopkeepers in the bazaar had opened out their awnings, and were now engaged in smoking. Owing to the rainy weather very few people were moving about: only a few gariwans passed along the road, singing at the top of their voices, and some coolies bearing loads on their heads, absorbed in their favourite melody, of which the refrain ran:--
"Oh yes, my darling Bisakha!
"Your friend's just off to Mathura."
A number of barbers lived on the west side of the Vaidyabati Bazar. One of them was sitting in his verandah on account of the rain, and as he sat there, every now and then looking up at the sky or humming softly to himself, his wife brought her infant child to him and said, "I have not yet got through all my house work: just nurse this child for me a bit! the pots and pans have not yet been scoured, and the floor has not been rubbed down with cow-dung; and besides, I have a lot of cooking to do. I am the only woman in the house: how can I possibly do all this myself? -- have I four hands or four feet?"
The barber straightway tucked his shaving instruments under his arm and got up to go, saying, "I have no time just now to nurse the child. Baburam Babu is to be married to-morrow: I must be off at once." His wife
