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«Very Young» Gayerson was miserable, and took no trouble to conceal his wretchedness. He was in the Army — a Line regiment I think, but am not certain — and, since his face was a looking-glass and his forehead an open book, by reason of his i
«Very Young» Gayerson’s papa held a Division or a Collectorate or something administrative in a particularly unpleasant part of Bengal — full of Babus who edited newspapers proving that «Young» Gayerson was a «Nero» and a «Scylla» and a «Charybdis»; and, in addition to the Babus, there was a good deal of dysentery and cholera abroad for nine months of the year. «Young» Gayerson — he was about five and forty — rather liked Babus, they amused him, but he objects to dysentery, and when he could get away, went to Darjilling for the most part. This particular season he fancied that he would come up to Simla, and see his boy. The boy was not altogether pleased. He told the Venus A
«My daughter is coming out in a fortnight, Mr. Gayerson,» she said.
«Your what?» said he.
«Daughter,» said the Venus A
«Very Young» Gayerson, who was a short twenty-two years old, nearly fell out of his chair with astonishment; for he had persisted in believing, against all belief, in the youth of the Venus A
«Very Young» Gayerson’s papa came up twelve days later, and had not been in Simla four and twenty hours, before two men, old acquaintances of his, had told him how «Very Young» Gayerson had been conducting himself.
«Young» Gayerson laughed a good deal, and inquired who the Venus A
The Venus A
Presently, he heard the Venus A
«I don’t wonder,» said «Young» Gayerson. Here he raised his voice — «He follows his father’s footsteps. Didn’t I worship the ground you trod on, ever so long ago, Kitty — and you haven’t changed since then. How strange it all seems!»
«Very Young» Gayerson said nothing. His conversation with the daughter of the Venus A
* * *
«At five, to-morrow then,» said the Venus A
«At five punctual,» said «Young» Gayerson. «You can lend your old father a horse I dare say, youngster, can’t you? I’m going for a ride tomorrow afternoon.»
«Certainly,» said «Very Young» Gayerson. «I am going down to-morrow morning. My ponies are at your service, Sir.»
The Venus A
«Good-bye, Tom,» whispered the Venus A
THE BISARA OF POOREE
Little Blind Fish, thou art marvellous wise,
Little Blind Fish, who put out thy eyes?
Open thine ears while I whisper my wish—
Bring me a lover, thou little Blind Fish.
Some natives say that it came from the other side of Kulu, where the eleven-inch Temple Sapphire is. Others that it was made at the Devil-Shrine of Ao-Chung in Thibet, was stolen by a Kafir, from him by a Gurkha, from him again by a Lahouli, from him by a khitmatgar, and by this latter sold to an Englishman, so all its virtue was lost: because, to work properly, the Bisara of Pooree must be stolen — with bloodshed if possible, but, at any rate, stolen.
These stories of the coming into India are all false. It was made at Pooree ages since — the ma
All kinds of magic are out of date and done away with except in India where nothing changes in spite of the shiny, toy-scum stuff that people call «civilization.» Any man who knows about the Bisara of Pooree will tell you what its powers are — always supposing that it has been honestly stolen. It is the only regularly working, trustworthy love-charm in the country, with one exception.
[The other charm is in the hands of a trooper of the Nizam’s Horse, at a place called Tuprani, due north of Hyderabad.] This can be depended upon for a fact. Some one else may explain it.
If the Bisara be not stolen, but given or bought or found, it turns against its owner in three years, and leads to ruin or death. This is another fact which you may explain when you have time. Meanwhile, you can laugh at it. At present, the Bisara is safe on an ekka-pony’s neck, inside the blue bead-necklace that keeps off the Evil-eye. If the ekka-driver ever finds it, and wears it, or gives it to his wife, I am sorry for him.
A very dirty hill-cooly woman, with goitre, owned it at Theog in 1884. It came into Simla from the north before Churton’s khitmatgar bought it, and sold it, for three times its silver-value, to Churton, who collected curiosities. The servant knew no more what he had bought than the master; but a man looking over Churton’s collection of curiosities — Churton was an Assistant Commissioner by the way — saw and held his tongue. He was an Englishman; but knew how to believe. Which shows that he was different from most Englishmen. He knew that it was dangerous to have any share in the little box when working or dormant; for unsought Love is a terrible gift.