The lama jibbed at the open door of a crowded third-class
carriage. 'Were it not better to walk?' said he weakly.

A burly Sikh artisan thrust forth his bearded head. 'Is he
afraid? Do not be afraid. I remember the time when I was afraid
of the te-rain. Enter! This thing is the work of the Government.'

'I do not fear,' said the lama. 'Have ye room within for two?'

'There is no room even for a mouse,' shrilled the wife of a
well-to-do cultivator - a Hindu Jat from the rich Jullundur, district.
Our night trains are not as well looked after as the day ones,
where the sexes are very strictly kept to separate carriages.

'Oh, mother of my son, we can make space,' said the blueturbaned
husband. 'Pick up the child. It is a holy man, see'st thou?'

'And my lap full of seventy times seven bundles! Why not bid him
sit on my knee, Shameless? But men are ever thus!' She looked
round for approval. An Amritzar courtesan near the window sniffed
behind her head drapery.

'Enter! Enter!' cried a fat Hindu money-lender, his folded
account-book in a cloth under his arm. With an oily smirk: 'It is
well to be kind to the poor.'

'Ay, at seven per cent a month with a mortgage on the unborn
calf,' said a young Dogra soldier going south on leave; and they
all laughed.