Premnarayan, in his passion, expressed his thoughts thus to himself:—"Ah! what a hateful thing is service. The servant is regarded as no better than a dog! he must run to execute any order that is given. How long has my soul been vexed by the rude behaviour of Haladhar, Gadadhar, and the other boys! They would never let me eat or sleep in peace: they have even composed songs in derision of me: their jests have been as irritating to me as ant-bites; they have signalled to other boys in the street to annoy me: they have gone so far as to clap their hands at me behind my back. Can any one submit tamely to such treatment as this? It is enough to drive a sane man out of his senses. I must have a good stock of courage not to have run away from Calcutta long ago: it is due to my good genius only that so far I have not lost my employment. At last the scoundrels have met with their deserts: may they now rot in jail, never to get out again! Yet after all these are idle words; is not my journey being made with the express object of effecting their release? has not this duty been imposed upon me by my employer? Alas, I have no voice in the matter! if men are not to starve, they must do and bear all this."
Baburam Babu of Vaidyabati was seated in all a Babu's state; his servant, Hari, was rubbing his master's feet. Seated on one side of him the pandits were discussing some trivial points relating to certain observances enjoined by the Shastras, such as:—"Pumpkins may be eaten to-day, beguns should not be eaten to-morrow; to take milk with salt is quite as bad as eating the flesh of cows." On the other side of him, some friends were engaged in a game of chess: one of them was in deep thought, his head supported on his hand: evidently his game was up, he was checkmated. Some musicians in the room were mingling their harmonies, their instru-
