about as long as the workman. The kalabatoon was then reeled off on a
separate reel, and the process continually repeated.

We stopped at the office of our banker for a moment on our way along
the Chandni Chowk in order to effect some changes of money. As we were
leaving, Bhima Gandharva inquired if I had observed the young man in
the red cotton turban who had politely broken off in our favor a long
negotiation with our banker, which he resumed when we had finished our
little business.

"Of course I did," I replied. "What a beautiful young man he was!
His aquiline nose, his fair complexion, his brilliant eyes, his
lithe form, his intelligent and vivacious expression,--all these
irresistibly attracted me to him."

"Ha!" said Bhima Gandharva, as if he were clearing his throat. He
grasped my arm: "Come, I thought I saw the young man's father standing
near the door as we passed out. I wonder if _he_ will irresistibly
attract you?" He made me retrace my steps to the banker's office:
"There he is."

He was the image of the son in feature, yet his face was as repulsive
as his son's was beautiful: the Devil after the fall, compared with
the angel he was before it, would have presented just such a contrast.

"They are two Vallàbhácháryas," said my companion as we walked away.
"You know that the trading community of India, comprehended under
the general term of Baniahs, is divided into numerous castes, which
transmit their avocations from father to son and preserve themselves
free from intermixture with others. The two men you saw are probably