"Please give me ten rupees for a hapless woman who has just arrived
at the house." Mother's smile had its own persuasion.

"Why ten rupees? One is enough." Father added a justification: "When
my father and grandparents died suddenly, I had my first taste of
poverty. My only breakfast, before walking miles to my school, was
a small banana. Later, at the university, I was in such need that
I applied to a wealthy judge for aid of one rupee per month. He
declined, remarking that even a rupee is important."

"How bitterly you recall the denial of that rupee!" Mother's heart
had an instant logic. "Do you want this woman also to remember
painfully your refusal of ten rupees which she needs urgently?"

"You win!" With the immemorial gesture of vanquished husbands, he
opened his wallet. "Here is a ten-rupee note. Give it to her with
my good will."

Father tended to first say "No" to any new proposal. His attitude
toward the strange woman who so readily enlisted Mother's sympathy
was an example of his customary caution. Aversion to instant
acceptance--typical of the French mind in the West-is really only
honoring the principle of "due reflection." I always found Father
reasonable and evenly balanced in his judgments. If I could bolster
up my numerous requests with one or two good arguments, he invariably
put the coveted goal within my reach, whether it were a vacation
trip or a new motorcycle.

Father was a strict disciplinarian to his children in their early
years, but his attitude toward himself was truly Spartan. He