The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1892-08-27
MUHAMMAD DIN.

Who is the happy man2 He that sees In his
own house at home liltlo children crowned with
dust, leaping aud falling and crying
The polo ball was an old one, Scared,
clipped and dinted. 1t stood on the
mantelpiece among thepipestems which
Imam Din, khitmatgar, was cleaningfor
me.
"Does the Heaven-born want this
ball 2" said Imam Din, deferentialiy.
The Heaven-born set no particular
store by it; but of what use was polo
ball to khitmatgar?
"By your honor's favor, have
little son. He has seen this ball, and
desires to play with. l do not want it
for myself"
No one would for an instant accuse
partly old Imam Din OF wanting to play
with polo balls. He carried out the,
battered thing into the veranda, and
there followed hurricane Of joyful
soueaks, patter Of small feet and the
thud-thud.thud of the ball rolling along
the ground. Evidently the little son
had been waiting outside the door to Sc
cure the treasure. But how had he
managed to see that polo ball2
Next day, coming back from the office
half an hour earlier than usual, | was
aware OF small figure in the dining
room-a tiny, plump figure in q ridicu-
lously inadeqate shirt, which came, per-
haps, half way down the tubby stomach.
It wandered round the room, thumb in
mouth, grooming to itself as it took stock
of the pictures. Undoubtedly this was
the little son.
He had no business in my room, OF
course, but was 80 deeply absorbed in
his discoveries that he never noticed
me in the doorway. Istepped into the
room and nearly startled him into tit.
He sat down on the ground with gasp:
His eyes opened and his mouth followed
suit. l knew what was coming. and
fed, followed by long. dry how, which
reached the servants quarters lar more
quickly than any orders OF mine had
ever done. In ten seconds Imam Din
was in the dining room. Then despair
ing sobs arose, and / returned to find
Imam Din admonlshing the small sim
ner, who was using most OF his shirt as
q handkerchief.
"This boy" said Imam Din, judicial
", sis a budmash, q big budmash. He
will, without doubt, go to the jailkhana
for his behavior"
Renewed yells from the renitent, and
an elaborate apology to myself from
Imam Din.
"Tell the baby" said I, "that the
sahib is not angry and take him away"
Imam Din conveyed my forgive
ness to the offender, who had now gath
cred all his shirt round his neck,
stringwise, and the yell subsidized into q
sob. The two set off for the door,
ellis name," said Imam Din, as
though the name were part OF the
crime, sis Muhammad Din, and he is a
Freed from present danger, Muham-
mad Din turned around in his fathers
arms and said, gravely: at is true
that my name is Muhammad Din,
tahib, but ! am not budmash, am q
manW
From that day dated my acquaintance
with Muhammad Din. Never again did
he come into my dining room, but on
tu9 ueutEhl kEUuuAo VI th0 SouPvAn0 We
greeted each other with much state,
though our conversation was coned to
"TaTaam, tahib" from his side, and
''Salamm, Muhammad Din" from mine.
Daily on my return from Office the
little white shirt and the fat little body
used to rise from the shade OF the
creeper covered trellis where they had
been hid, and daily / checked my horse
here, that my salutation might not be
slurred over or given unseemly.
Muhammad Din never had any com.
panions. He used to trot about the
compound. in and out Of the castor oil
bushes, on mysterious errands OF his
own. One day l stumbled upon some
Of his handiwork far down the ground.
He had half buried the polo ball in
dust, and stuck six ahrivelled old man.
igold flowers in circle round II. Out
side that circle again was rude square
traced out in bits Of red brick alternate
ing with fragments OF broken chain;
the whole bounded by o little bank Of
dust The bhistie from the well curb
put in plea for the small architect,
saying that u was only the play OF a
baby, and did not much disfgure my
garden.
Heaven knows that / had no inten-
ton OF touching the child's work then
or later; but that evening stroll
through the garden brought me una
wares full on 1t, 90 that ! tramped be-
lore I knew, marigold heads, dust
banks and fragments Of broken soap