The record-union., 1893-01-06

ike material, fdded 10 purpIlSh tint, its
heavy gold thread tracings torn, frayed
or wanting. hid all but the tiny hand and
arm swaying the fan and shrunken,
waxen face whence a pair of bright black
eyes looked at him wisely.
The Presence would do well TO repose
once more" came the worn-out voice.
HE is not to die this time. He hath
broken nought save his blue spectacles
and that is well. Spectacles are not for
the young; and, as this slave said but
now, my Lord is in possession of such
great youth that he can afford to rest till
Dlttu returns from pursuing the Pres
ence's horse, which, conceiving that the
Protector had no immediate need of his
services, hath retired, after the manner OF
beasts, TO gorge in a grain-teld. But I,
being Dittu's relation, can affirm that he
Will OF surety return ere long; therefore
rest is within reach, and if the Presence
will lie down again 1 will keep the fly
people from settling on the Presence's S
face.''
To tell the truth, the effort to rise had
made Smith-Jones feel decidedly queer,
so without more ado he lay back on the
pillow which the strange watcher had
evidently improvised from the coarse
outside veil she had worn over her tinery.
lie guessed this by the lingering smell of
roses which clung to the fabric.
~ ou might tell me how l came to fall
OF, and who you are," said he, after a
pause-a little fretfully, for he was un-
used TO inaction, and impatient at things
he did not understand.
''Huzoor rat-holes are very simple
things. Or perhaps it was a suake-hole.
If my lord had gone space farther
from the tree he would not have been on
sacred ground and then the serpent
might not have revenged himself"
Smith-Jones gave a lit:le wriggle.
What boshp' he muttered; adding aloud
as If to change the subject, And who are
you, mother ?"
'1f my lord dislikes old wives tales"
came the cooling voice, ''he will not care
for mine. He is so young. If the Pres
ence's great at-grandfather-"
"What do you know about my great
grandfather" he interrupted hotIy.
Nothing, except that the Protector of
the Poor must have had one. That is all.
grandfather Heaven cool his grave > had
been in Jodhnagar when he was young
he might have heard Gulabi sing. l am
Gulabi, Huzoor."
The peacock's feather fan, with its scent
Of dead roses, swung backwards and for
wards, backwards and forwards, in that
even rhythmical sweep which only those
accustomed to the task from childhood
can maintain for long without break or
haw. 1t was particularly soothing.
u was singer to the great Maharani at
the Pearl Palace" went on the voice. ~
had to sing her to sleep while l famed
her, as l am tanning the Pillar of Justice
even now. l used to sing also before
the court in the evening, sitting in the
screened room where only the great and
the favored had a sight of my mistress.
sometimes the Presence's people came
from over the sea; l have seen them.
They came in those days for gold and
jewels. Sometimes also for loves not for
justice, as my lord comes now. Nor did
they wear blue spectacles; but then they
were young, and l, who am so old now,
was young also"
The melancholy cadence Of her words
was quite lost on Smith-Jones, who was
fast recovering, himself and beginning
once more to take rational view of life
and an interest in the situation as stu
alton. Among other things, he was
student of folklore, and the chance of
acquiring information from this old
woman, something that might even be
construed into sun-myth, was exceed
ingly tempting.
You must know lot of old songs,
mother" he said in superior tones.
Sing me one while we are waiting for
Dittu. Or if you can't sing it, you know,
just say it; only want the words"
Was it a faint chuckle he heard, as he
10y pIOIl6 Ol LIS DdCh, OT Only louder
gurgle of those ceaseless doves in the
jhand-tree? The old lady's voice, imper-
turbably toneleSs, arrested his wonder,
why should not sing, Huzoor, seeing [
am OF family of bards? We sing both
of the old and the new order. My
father and my fathers father sang Of
them before me; yet l have no son to sing
them after me. So the songs l sing die
with me. When am dead no one will
hear them any mOre.p
All the more reason why he should hear
them now, thought Smith-Jones, feeling
surreptitiously in his pocket for note
book.
1.-The Presence need not trouble him
self. He must close his eyes or l shall
forget my song. My singing is for sleep
and dreams, and this song has been wait
ing to be sung so long that it is well nigh
forgotten already. Listen and dream,
HuZoorn'
She began in the usual low chant, va
Med by occasional sudden turns modu-
lating the tone into higher or lower KEY
in accordance with the spirit of the story.
From a musical point of view there was
nothing remarkable in the performance,
save the absolute want of vibration in
the worn out voice, whose even softness
became all the more remarkable when
contrasted by the passion in the words.
Yet Smith-Jones felt at once that he was
listening to past mistress in her art
the art which in old times represented
history, literature and the drama, and
made the desire tor, or possession OF, a
really good bard just cause for battle
murder or sudden death among rival
courts. He could not of course recollect
the exact words used, but in telling me
the tale years after he declared that his
memory clung close to the original, and
that her song swept on untrammeled hy
rlVna DVtblO1 than what
to come to it spontaneously through the
chant. She sang, in fact as the native
birds sing, with every now and again an
interlude or refrain or exclamation sery-
ing as pause, during which the singer
grasps fresh idea, new measure. And
this, according to Smith-Jones, was the
song that she sang:
Listen, Pillar of Justicei Listen,
Roses smell sweet, but they are silent
when the sun kisses them. | sing of a
rose who sang, yet rOse-like was silent of
kisses. Heart of my heart! why should
1 sing OF kiss that never came, of the
kiss owed to the rose, not by the dead but
the living!
For what is dead mans kiss to Inns
that are like the rose? He was so fair
and young, he came from far over the
seas. Was it jewels or gold he was seek
ing? No matter! twas love that he
found.
His hair was COLDER than gold, his
eyes, full of laughter, were blue; blue as
the sapphires he sought whilst love was
seeking for him. Yes, the black sought
for love in the blue. Oh, cold were his
eyes cold as the SHOWS in the north
when the rose began singing.
"Hai. golden sun. Hal, cold blue skies!
Grant me but this, look, kiss
Hal! Hal! Hail
Fright to the inner court of marble
and towels fmi1 npnppalrS' faoc
and tinkling sataras, he came when the
stars came and talked to my mistress !:
talked of love and of jewels, the one for
, the sake of the other. For the RAM