DUKE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 

 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/ratanbaisketchofOOnika 
 

 Ch^n h 
 
RATA N BAI 
 
 A SKETCH OF A BOMBAY HIGH CASTE 
 HINDU YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 BY 
 
 SHEVANTIBAI M. NIKAMBE. 
 
 WITH A PREFACE BY THE LADY HARRIS , C.J. 
 
 Xonfcon: 
 
 MARSHALL BROTHERS, KESWICK HOUSE, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 
 
 1893 . 
 
 All Rights Reserved.] 
 

 
 
2 9 i. 7-3 
 H 7 = 2 , /? 
 
 By special permission most graciously accorded, 
 
 'Hihis |3ook is ^Rbicatcii 
 with profound gratitude and loyalty 
 TO 
 
 HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY THE QUEEN, 
 EMPRESS OF INDIA, 
 
 BY 
 
 SHEVANTIBAl m. nikambe. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY 
 
 HER EXCELLENCY THE LADY HARRIS, C.I, 
 
 J- have’ much pleasure in writing these few 
 
 lines, and feel sure that the readers of this fflindu 
 
 story will he interested to hear that the Sduthoress 
 is the head of a dfindu School for high caste 
 girls ; and therefore has had every opportunity for 
 studying their characteristics. 
 
 She School is of immense help to her country = 
 women, who are, as a rule, prevented from being 
 properly trained in sometimes even the simplest 
 forms of education by their high caste and their 
 
 early marriages , which ; as a rule, prevent girls 
 
 from going to school after twelve years of age—the 
 very time when our Snglish girls are beginning to 
 see more clearly tlie advantages oj education. Sd 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 married ddindit lady naturally does not like to go 
 to big Native schools: it being undignified in their 
 ideas to learn with girls ; perhaps of not such high 
 caste as their own or else unmarried. 
 
 Jlrs. J\hikambe ; s School was started in (November 
 1890 with five pupils. Hffefcre she opened this 
 school slue was engaged in educational work amongst 
 the high caste gilds and women in tffiombay : she 
 was the head mistress of a dhindu girls ; school in 
 connexion with the well=Tcnown and influential society 
 called the ‘ Students'’ SBiterary and Scientific 
 Society. n She saw the disadvantages and diffi= 
 culties the little ffiindu wives had in getting a 
 decent education after they were married. 
 
 Sver since her school has been started ^ the 
 young wives ; widows and grown up girls of the 
 high caste community have tahcen advantage of it. 
 Noung mothers have come. too. 
 
 J have myselj visited Mrs. Jfikambe ; s school—a 
 visit that gave me great pleasure y and J- was 
 charmed with what N saw and heard } and think 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 vu 
 
 Mrs. JfiJcamhe worthy of all praise for carrying on 
 with, so much earnestness a greatly needed work. 
 
 e/ feel sure that all married dCmdu ladies 
 must he happier and letter for an education which, 
 whilst not too engrossing / must he elevating to them= 
 selves their children, and homes. 
 
 ADA HARRIS. 
 
Vlll 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 jn placing this humble ivorlc before the public 
 (my very first attempt), c / have to thank and 
 pra ise Sod with all my heart for help and strength, 
 especially in my late illness, during which time it 
 was written. 
 
 J feel J must record my deep 'indebtedness to 
 Oder dracious Jlajesty the Queen, our beloved impress, 
 for so graciously granting me the permission to 
 dedicate this small ivorlc to c/Uer Jlajesty, whose happy 
 rule in my dear native land is brightening and 
 enlightening the lives and homes of many fflindu 
 women. 
 
 Jhj warmest thanks are due to ffler Sxcellency the 
 SBacly kdarris, r &. J., the wife of the late dev era or of 
 Bombay, for her deep interest in Jn dials women, and 
 for so kindly writing the preface to this book. J 
 have also to thank Jliss Jlanning for looking over the 
 proofs and suggesting corrections. 
 
 SHE VANTIBAI M. NIKA MBS. 
 
 SBondon, June 1895. 
 
RATANBAI. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 YOUNG Ratanbai is a pleasing girl of eleven. Her father’s 
 name is Vasudevrav Kashinath Dalvi, and her mother’s, 
 Anandibai. Mr. Vasudevrav is a successful lawyer of the 
 High Court. Every morning he is busy with his clients 
 in the office room, which is very comfortably furnished. 
 A rich carpet covers the floor ; a cushioned sofa stands at 
 one side, a dozen chairs in a row at the other, a handsome 
 cabinet containing a large collection of law books opposite, 
 and there are two good windows looking to the front. 
 The walls are prettily decorated, and portraits of great 
 men, mostly literary, hang in a most uncomfortable fashion 
 high up against the roof. Mr. Vasudevrav likes his home 
 
 2 
 
( IO ) 
 
 to be well furnished, and once in a way he does give his 
 spare time to this matter; but generally he only makes the 
 purchases and sends them home, leaving all to his clerk 
 Narayanrao, who, though a clever and an honest man, 
 knows little about making a room attractive. 
 
 One morning, as Mr. Vasudavrav is busy with his 
 clients, little Ratanbai, a pet with her father, walks in, and, 
 carrying a chair to the window, kneels on it and looks out 
 on the road. She is dressed, as all Hindu girls are, in a 
 skirt of the khan* material, and a short-sleeved satin 
 jacket. Her tiny fair wrists are covered with gold bracelets, 
 six on each, with a couple of gold stone bangles between. 
 Round her neck is a mangalsutra\, a “ sa-ri”% a “goph! j| 
 Her ears have diamond and pearl ear-rings. Her hair is 
 parted in the middle, brushed, well oiled, and tied into a 
 
 * The Hindu ladies’ cloth. 
 
 f The wedding symbol. It is a necklace of small black 
 beads, with a pretty gold ornament in the middle. 
 
 i A heavy gold neck ornament. 
 
 H A beautifully woven ornament of fine real gold strings. 
 It fits round the neck. 
 
( II ) 
 
 neat knot at the back. Upon this knot she wears a brooch¬ 
 like jewel, over which a “ vein”* is fixed. Her skirt 
 reaches her ankles ; but as she kneels, it is a bit untidy, 
 and one can see her pretty grape-patterned anklets. Two 
 toes, the first and the third, have silver rings. Ratanbai 
 stayed at the window for a few moments, then getting off 
 the chair, she stood by the table, watching her learned 
 father as he dictated to half a dozen clerks who squatted 
 on the floor and scribbled away with reed pens. She 
 looked charming. Her fair complexion made her to be 
 classed amongst the pretty girls of Bombay. As she stood 
 in a careless dreamy way looking at the flying pens of the 
 clerks, her kind father’s attention was turned towards her, 
 and thoughts seemed to crowd into his head while he 
 stretched lazily on his chair. Then coming to himself, and 
 putting his velvet cap straight, he again attended to his 
 work. No one knew what filled his mind with care, and 
 child Rafan did not notice her father at all. She little 
 knew the anxiety her good parent had had ever since 
 her marriage. 
 
 Ratanbai had been married two years before into a 
 
 * A wreath of flowers. 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 wealthy but an uneducated family. The promise was 
 made by the mother with the father’s consent, when the 
 girl was a baby, and the arrangement had to be fulfilled, 
 though it had been against the real wish of the educated 
 father. Unfortunately, four months after the marriage, 
 her father-in-law, Harischandra Sadashiva, a successful 
 merchant and a wealthy landowner, died, and his widow, 
 according to the rules of the caste, had to live under the 
 shelter of her husband’s brother, who was rich, but not very 
 pleasant to deal with. His wife, who belonged to the 
 country, was ignorant, and always made matters worse 
 through sheer want of education. Ratanbai’s mother-in- 
 law, then, was in great trouble, and Mr. Vasudevrav 
 became at times full of grief, for it was clear that Ratan’s 
 young husband, who was prosecuting his studies at College, 
 would soon be obliged to take up the management of the 
 affairs, and this would indeed come in the way of his 
 studies. Such a necessity was a great disappointment to 
 Mr. Vasudevrav, whose great aim was to have as his son- 
 in-law a learned man, and, if possible, one who would be 
 a lawyer. Every time he looked at Ratanbai, his only 
 surviving and therefore darling child, anxiety filled his 
 mind. 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 In about half-an-hour, Mr. Vasudevrav was at break¬ 
 fast. The dining room was dismal looking, with only a 
 dozen low flat stools to boast of as furniture. It was, 
 however, very clean, and we will mention the details of the 
 meal. 
 
 Mr. Vasudevrav seats himself on one of the stools, 
 before which is a large silver “ tat,”* “ a vdti”~ f* a silver water 
 jug and cup. He is dressed in a rich maroon “ mughta.”% 
 The upper part of his body is bare, the sacred thread 
 hangs across his shoulder ; a gold ornament, like a handsome 
 bracelet, is tightly fixed above his elbow, and a pearl 
 earring is in the upper part of his ear. His head is shaved, 
 except at the back, whence hang curly jet tresses. He is 
 a tall, fine-looking man. As soon as he sits down, his wife, 
 Anandibai, gently and modestly steps in, and sitting on the 
 floor pours a little water into the plate, and running her 
 fingers through, throws the water into a corner near by, 
 when a cup full of rice is laid in it by the cook with 
 
 * A large plate, 
 t A cup. 
 
 i The habit worn by gentlemen when dining. 
 
( H ) 
 
 “ varan a ”* over it. Anandibai brings in a “ vdti ”*f* of 
 butter, and pours a couple of teaspoonfuls over the rice. 
 In the meantime, the the vegetables, and the 
 
 pickles, and sweets and fruits are served, and Mr. Vasu- 
 devrav, alone and in silence, devours his fresh hot breakfast. 
 Sometimes he asks for more of some dish which Anandibai 
 serves. He tries some more rice, with milk and home-made 
 curds, and, finishing the sweets and the fruits, draws a 
 bright-polished brass basin closer, washes his hands, and 
 looks for a napkin, which his good wife hands to him. He 
 now walks straight up to his room to dress, which opera¬ 
 tion takes very little time, for everything is lying ready, 
 and a servant is present to help in the way of drawing on 
 the boots, &c. 
 
 Meantime Ratanbai had had her breakfast, and was 
 ready also, The carriage—a handsome landau, drawn 
 by a pair of fine white horses, a gift from one of the 
 clients—came to the door. Mr. Vasudevrav, who is dressed 
 in a long white coat and trousers, with a handsome red 
 
 * A preparation of a kind of pulse always used with rice, 
 t Cup. 
 
 J Cake or scone. 
 
( i5 ) 
 
 turban, gets in first, and little Ratanbai seats herself 
 opposite him. With two footmen at the back of the carriage, 
 and a messenger by the coachman’s side, they drive through 
 the crowded, busy streets. After ten minutes the carriage 
 stopped. One of the footmen not in livery jumped down, 
 and helping Ratanbai out, walked behind her with her 
 bag of school books into a large broad stone house, and 
 placing the bag in its place, left Ratanbai among her 
 friends, saying loudly before leaving, “ Ratanbai, please be 
 ready ; I have been told to come for you at two o’clock to¬ 
 day, so I will bring your milk and then take you home.” 
 At this Ratanbai looked at him and simply nodded her 
 head. The carriage in the meantime drove on to the 
 High Courts, and the servant, after seeing Ratanbai at 
 school, made calls on his friends, and had a short smoke 
 and nap before returning home. 
 
 The bell rang and the girls went into their respective 
 class rooms. Let us go into the III. Standard Class. It 
 is upstairs, and we must needs ascend the broad staircase. 
 The room is well ventilated and suitably furnished. There 
 are twelve girls in the class, all young wives. Three are 
 dressed in the “sari,” and the rest like Ratanbai. At the 
 head of the class is our friend Ratanbai, looking intelligent 
 
( i6 ) 
 
 and modest as she stands up to read the third verse of 
 “ Casabianca.” She reads it distinctly, with expression, as 
 if she understood every word, and then she follows the next 
 reader by looking into her book. A visitor might at once 
 perceive how well behaved and good Ratanbai is at school. 
 She never joins in any sort of mischief, is never found 
 inattentive, in fact, she is, as her teacher is delighted to say, 
 “ the nicest girl that attends our school.” 
 
 At one o’clock the servant brought her tiffin-milk and 
 cake ; the former in a silver cup, and the latter in a silver 
 basket. Ratanbai did not go out of the class when her 
 servant arrived, as some of the girls did, but she waited 
 until the “recess hour”; then she went quietly into the tiffin 
 room, seated herself on the floor, and drank the milk first 
 and then eat the cake. After washing her hands at the 
 pipe in the outer room, she ran upstairs to her teacher, 
 ascertained her lessons for the next day, then bidding good¬ 
 bye in her sweet way, with a smile and a gentle nod of the 
 head, putting on her “ shalu,”* she walked out, the servant 
 again behind her with her bag, and drove home. 
 
 Anandibai, her mother, was at her toilet. She was 
 
 * A silk shawl with gold thread. 
 
) 
 
 seated on the floor before a looking glass, with caskets of 
 jewellery near, and was just taking a pair of pearl studs out 
 of her ear, when Ratan ran in and embraced her. 
 
 “Go to Gangu,” said the mother, “and she will do 
 your hair, and then I want you to wear your ‘ pilav'* 
 to-day. We are to go to ‘ Mavashi's pintle .’ ”f 
 
 By four o’clock the mother and the daughter were 
 dressed, and the brougham was at the door. Ratanbai wore 
 a light blue pilav with gold trimming. Iler jacket was of 
 pink satin, most elaborately worked with gold thread and 
 pearls. She had on a set of pearl jewellery, and wore a 
 handsome nose-ring. Gracefully raising the edge of her 
 dress, she jumped into the carriage, her mother, who was 
 very neatly attired, follows,^and with two attendants they 
 drove through the bustling streets into one of the newly- 
 built stone bungalows in Girgaum. As they neared the 
 house, they heard the “ vajantri','% or tom-tom. Anandibai 
 and Ratan got out, and were led into the hall, which was 
 most grandly arranged. The chairs, sofas, and tables were 
 
 * A silk sari—like the Parsi. 
 t The flower ceremony ot the maternal aunt. 
 | The native band. 
 
( 18 ) 
 
 moved into another room ; a rich carpet spread, the 
 chandeliers and wall lamps were uncovered and lit. The 
 Hindu ladies dressed all alike, but in variegated colours, 
 were seated in groups on the carpet. Some were talking, 
 some helping themselves to “pan supari and some 
 putting the flowers in their hair. There were about a 
 hundred in the room, and yet the entrance was crowded. 
 The ladies looked very dignified as they entered, dressed 
 in different kinds of sans, with the handsome-coloured 
 cashmere shawls thrown over their shoulders. Each meets 
 the hostess, then takes a seat amidst the crowd, and looks 
 round about at the house, &c., and is soon lost in talk. 
 Anandibai and Ratanbai, being the nearest relatives, go 
 into the inner room first, and then into the outer hall. 
 
 Anandibai’s youngest sister, Champubai, is married 
 into this house. She is a lovely girl of fourteen, and it is on 
 her account that this festivity takes place. In about an hour 
 Champubai, most gorgeously dressed in the handsomest 
 silk and gold, and with abundant jewellery, walks into the 
 room, when every eye is turned to her. She takes her seat 
 in the lovely pandal especially put up for the occasion— 
 
 * The leaves and betel nut—the hospitality of the Hindus. 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 on a velvet-cushioned chair—and, placing her jewelled feet 
 on a low stool, she sits — a picture of perfect beauty. 
 The oval face, the light olive complexion, the lovely black 
 expressive eyes, the chiselled nose, and the small mouth, 
 all go to make Champubai one of the beauties of Bombay. 
 Her luxuriant jet hair is hung in a plait decorated with 
 flowers of the sweetest scent; an artistic net of jessamine 
 buds covers her head, and her forehead from ear to ear is 
 edged by a piece of pearl lace, and an ornament of about 
 the size of a shilling is suspended by a pearl string at the 
 parting. Her ears are masses of beautiful pearls and 
 diamonds, and so are the arms and the neck. The pilav 
 she wears is of a soft pink, and worked all over with gold. 
 Her delicate feet have ornaments like Ratanbai’s, only 
 these arc larger. The pandal is against a large handsome 
 mirror, and is like a fairy bower, arranged with plants, 
 and lamps, and candles. At the side of Champubai are 
 two dais, which is occupied by young girls dressed 
 gracefully ; amongst them, to the right hand, is little 
 Ratanbai. 
 
 The ladies of the house arc in a state of confusion and 
 bustle. There arc so many duties to be carried out, but 
 no arrangement had been made beforehand as to who to 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 perform them. Finally, the hostess tells one to go to the 
 distribution of cocoanuts, two to the serving of spiced 
 milk, one to distribute the flowers, another to attend to the 
 pan supan; while she herself attends to her daughter-in- 
 law. She carries a silver tray with the following articles in 
 it: a little rice, a tiny box of “ kunku,”* and a small lamp, 
 and places the tray at the feet of Champubai. Holding 
 the lamp up to Champubai’s face, she waves it in the 
 usual way, and putting a promissory note of Rs. 50 in 
 her daughter-in-law’s hand, places the lamp in the tray, 
 and applies the “ kunku ” and rice between the eyebrows, 
 extending this last ceremony to Ratanbai and the other 
 little girls. 
 
 After this an unusual noise prevails, and much confusion 
 follows in distributing the sweets and serving the milk ; 
 the last is done in another room, the ladies going in groups 
 of ten or twelve. A little after lamp light all is over, yet 
 the poorer and older women of the caste keep on coming, 
 if not to witness the ceremony, at least to receive sweets 
 and cocoanuts. Anandibai and Ratanbai are urged to take 
 
 * The red stuff' with which the ladies make the dot on the 
 forehead. 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 dinner, which they do hurriedly, for Anandibai is anxious 
 to get home to her husband. To her surprise and Ratan’s 
 pleasure, Mr. Vasudevrav calls for them in the carriage 
 before proceeding home. The gentlemen of the house, 
 however, urge him to get out and remain a while, which he 
 does. He is led into the drawing room, and the hospitality 
 of pan supari is offered. After some jokes they begin 
 to talk on the topics of the day, and so engrossed was 
 Mr. Vasudevrav in the conversation that Anandibai goes 
 home alone with Ratanbai and sends the carriage back for 
 her husband. 
 
 For a whole week Champubai was engaged in this way 
 with ceremonies, and each day she was dressed in a 
 different way. One day like a “ bhatin,”* the second day like 
 a “ vailin','\ the third day like a parsi lady, and so on, and 
 all these days Ratanbai is kept away from school. Finally 
 her mother pronounces there are no more festivities, and that 
 Ratan can attend school. But the next day a message 
 comes from the mother-in-law that she was required there 
 for a certain ceremony at her husband’s sister’s house. To 
 
 * Is a term used by the Gaud Brahmins for the Brahmin lady. 
 
 t Bania lady. 
 
( 
 
 
 ) 
 
 her mother-in-law’s then she went for a week. Ratanbai 
 never liked going to “ sasar”* for she was not allowed 
 any freedom there. She had always to be helping with 
 something or other, and to be in complete subjection to 
 everyone. She could not take her school possessions to 
 that house, for it was her mother-in-law’s sister-in-law 
 who was the ruling person in the home, and she was already 
 educated in the old style, and was most averse to “ new 
 or reformed ideas.” Ratanbai’s mother-in-law was nobody 
 there. So Ratanbai dared not carry a lesson book into 
 that home, and the consequence was that the bright happy 
 child was turned into a miserable girl for a week. Sitting 
 idly for hours, helping to clean the vegetables and 
 grain, gossiping with the neighbouring girls of her age, 
 listening to all sorts of talk of the elderly women were the 
 usual occupations of Ratanbai at the “ sasar.” She could 
 not feel happy in this cheerless life. All the members of 
 the family were a terror to the child. From the day she 
 arrived to the day she left all kinds of remarks would be 
 made, and especially remarks that hurt her. Something 
 about her father and mother, about being sent to school 
 
 
 The fatlier-iu-iavVj house. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 and being “ learned was constantly falling on her 
 ears. Yet she did not say a word, did not show signs 
 of unpleasantness. Her duty was to please, and to 
 be most obedient. How often she thought of the 
 school, and the companions and the teachers, and 
 longed to be amongst them ! But as a married gir! 
 her lot was first of all with her husband’s people. 
 Very likely if her father-in-law had been alive, her 
 mother-in-law would have removed her from school after 
 her tenth birthday, but to please Ratan’s father she was 
 very quiet. 
 
 At last the day for her returning to her parents arrived, 
 and Ratan longed to fly as a bird ; but, no ! she must 
 wait till she is sent for. The carriage, after taking the 
 gentlemen to the office and the college, came back, and 
 with the permission of her mother-in law, she went back to 
 her parents. How pleased she was to be again at her 
 dear home ! Now she might fly from one room to another, 
 and be petted and caressed by all, a little queen among 
 the servants. The silent patient “ sun a ”* became again 
 a free bright happy child. The unkind words that had 
 
 * Daughter-in-law.. 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 been uttered, the harsh way in which she has been treated, 
 she dared not mention to her mother or fond father, for 
 telling them would only make matters worse. The 
 mother-in-law and others connected would simply have 
 shown themselves more tyrannical. First, when Ratanbai 
 began her visits to her “ sdsai she would cry, and tell 
 her parents of these unkind manners, but that made her 
 parents grieve, and if they ventured to speak about it even 
 in a right way it simply went badly for Ratanbai, so 
 though she felt all this very keenly, she bore it silently 
 and dutifully. 
 
 The day she returned to her parents her first duty 
 was to attend to her lessons. Asking the servant to bring 
 her bag, she took it into her father’s office, and, seated on 
 the floor, opened it, taking out all the books one by one, 
 carefully examined them. After giving the books and 
 other articles a thorough airing, she replaced them neatly, 
 keeping, however, one book out. This she opened and 
 read, learning her poetry and spelling by heart. Then, 
 taking her home exercise book, she wrote out her exercises 
 on her father’s desk, using his ink and pen. Her heart 
 
 * Father-in-law’s house. 
 
( 25 ) 
 
 was happy at the thought of going to school the next 
 clay. 
 
 Whenever Ratanbai was at home Anandibai was 
 very regular in getting the wreaths, and Ratanbai 
 had one put in her hair. Her mother that afternoon 
 made a call, and Ratanbai was allowed to accompany 
 her. Before lamplight they returned, and while 
 Anandibai was busily occupied in household duties, 
 Ratanbai took out a piece of needlework, and in the 
 office room awaited the return of her father. She 
 merrily hummed one of the infant school tunes, and 
 was then singing softly a Sanskrit shloka, when the 
 sound of the carriage was heard, and Ratanbai, flinging 
 down her work, ran to the window, but to her disappoint¬ 
 ment, instead of the carriage with her father in it she 
 saw a hack victoria with a load of luggage. Two months 
 before, an old widowed aunt of Ratanbai’s father 
 had gone on a pilgrimage to Benares. Mr. Vasudevrav 
 had provided her with attendants, &c., and the arrival of 
 this victoria means that the old lady had returned. The 
 servants crowded to take the luggage, and then the old 
 lady was helped out. She was dressed in pure white, and 
 covered from the head to a little above her ankles. Her head 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 ■was shaved, and the “patcil '* so carefully covered it that 
 you could only see her tired face, which in its day had been 
 attractive. Embracing Ratanbai and her mother, she pro¬ 
 nounced her blessing, and sat down in a wearied fashion. 
 Anandibai and Ratanbai sit beside her, and ask as to what 
 kind of a journey she had, whether the train was crowded, 
 and how many were returning from the pilgrimage, &c. 
 Each question received a lengthy answer, and the 
 attendants here and there helped to make the replies still 
 more lengthy. 
 
 After a while Anandibai rose and walked towards the 
 kitchen, and the old lady, understanding that it was to give 
 an order for her supper, said : “ Do not trouble, I will 
 just take milk.” 
 
 “ Kakubai,” says Ratanbai’s mother, “ you will have a 
 little rice, surely ? ” 
 
 “ Well, if it is hot ; but do not cook any fresh 
 for me.” 
 
 “ Oh, it will be no trouble, for we have not dined yet.” 
 
 “What! not dined ! Vasudevrav is not at home yet, I 
 suppose ?” 
 
 * A white sari. 
 
t 2 7 ) 
 
 “No; Baba* must be at the Club to-day,” said 
 Ratanbai. 
 
 The old lady here rose, and carrying a bundle from 
 amongst the luggage to where Ratanbai sat, opened it, and 
 took up several bags and gave them to her. Rejoicing 
 over them, she exclaimed, “ Kaku, have you brought all 
 these for me ? ” 
 
 “ Yes, birdie, they are for you,” said the auntie, pinching 
 Ratan’s chin. 
 
 The creaking sound of the English boots announced 
 Mr. Vasuderrav’s return home. He had been to a lecture 
 in the “ Hindu Club.” The Bhayar f* at the door stands up 
 and says, “ S/iet/i, Kakubai aye Jiai."% With feelings of 
 pleasure and astonishment he entered the house, and found 
 Kakubai and Ratanbai sitting together. After exchanging 
 greetings, they talked for a while, when it was announced 
 that “ dinner is served.” Mr. Vasudevrav takes a few 
 minutes to wash and dress, and is in his old seat ; Anandibai 
 is helping in the serving. As usual they sat talking after 
 
 * Father. 
 
 + Caretaker. 
 
 | Sir, Kakubai has come. 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 dinner, and Kakubai gave a long account of her pilgrimage, 
 so that they all, even Ratanbai, retired at a late hour. 
 
 For two weeks Ratanbai is now able to go regularly to 
 school. Every evening she might be seen sitting beside 
 Kakubai, relating the day’s incidents, and giving an 
 enthusiastic account of the happy hours spent with the 
 Bai (Mistress) and the teachers in the girls’ school. 
 
A SHENVI BRAHMIN GIRL. 
 
 (A Pupil in Mrs Xikambe's School.) 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
( 29 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 One evening, Ratanbai was sitting beside her mother and 
 Kakubai sewing, when the latter asked whether Shamrav’s 
 daughter had returned from Goa. Shamrav was a distant 
 relative, and his daughter was attending the same school as 
 Ratanbai. 
 
 Ratanbai. Yes ; for she came to see Bai (the school¬ 
 mistress) yesterday, with Muktabai, her younger sister. 
 
 Kakubai. Both the girls are grown up jjiow, and the 
 father-in-law will remove them from school. 
 
 Ratanbai. We heard last week that Nanibai (Sham¬ 
 rav’s elder girl) was not coming to sckool any more; but 
 Nanibai told me yesterday that her mother-in-law has 
 allowed her six months more, so she will be in school until 
 “ DivaliR* 
 
 * A Festival. 
 
( 30 ) 
 
 Kakitbai. Is Muktabai to go to school? 
 
 Ratanbai. Yes ; she is coming also. Her husband is 
 going up for the B.A. this year. If he passes, then he 
 intends trying for the LL.B.; but if he fails in that, he 
 must get an appointment, and then, probably, Muktabai 
 will have to leave school. In our school there are five who 
 intend going up for the Matriculation Examination, and 
 one of them is Ghanashampant’s daughter—Krishnabai. 
 
 Kakubai and Anandibai were very much astonished, 
 and the former exclaimed, “ What ! going up for men’s 
 examinations! What good are we to get by educating 
 these girls ? ” 
 
 “ With all this education and examination they must 
 ‘bake the bread,’” said the old aunt; and, turning to 
 Ratanbai, she added, “ What are you going to do by 
 learning? Are you girls going to business now, and will 
 you ask your husbands to mind the home ?” 
 
 Anandibai. I do not think Ratanbai ought to go to 
 school any longer, but her father wishes it, and I cannot go 
 against his wish or decision. 
 
 Kakubai. How is her mother-in-law inclined towards it ? 
 
 Anandibai. She has very little to say in the matter; 
 and since Ratan’s father-in-law’s death, she does not 
 
( 3i ) 
 
 behave as kindly as before, but of course her grief is 
 overwhelming. 
 
 Kakubai (turning to Ratan). When you are at 
 “ Sasar”* does your mother-in-law send you to school ? 
 
 “ No” ; said Ratanbai, unwillingly. 
 
 Kakubai. Then why do you send her to school here, 
 Anandi ? Does Vasudev know of this ? 
 
 “ I think so,” said Ratan’s mother, “ but there has been 
 some understanding between Ratan’s father and the 
 mother-in-law.” 
 
 While this talk was going on a sad feelinp- took hold of 
 Ratanbai, and she could not bear it any longer. She flung 
 herself into her mother’s lap, weeping most bitterly. 
 She was such a darling in the house that the mother 
 and the aunt could not endure to see her so troubled, 
 and by caressing and coaxing, brought her to herself 
 again. As she went away to wash her eyes, Anandibai 
 whispered to Kakubai, “ She cannot bear the idea of 
 leaving school.” 
 
 “ I do not know what in the world you are going to get 
 by educating her,” remarked the old lady. 
 
 * The father-in-law’s home. 
 
K 32 ) 
 
 “ I admit there is no good to be got, but it is Ratan’s 
 father’s doing,” replied Anandibai. 
 
 “ I will talk to him to-night and see,” said the old lady. 
 
 Anandibai went into the kitchen for a moment, and 
 Kakubai sat in silent meditation. 
 
 Just as Anandibai came back the servant walked in 
 with a letter. “ Keep it on the office table, Bhaya ’’ said 
 Anandibai to him. 
 
 “ Bai Saheb, it is a telegram,” answered the Bhaya. 
 
 At this they were both startled, and Kakubai exclaimed, 
 “ Why is there a telegram ? where does it come from, and 
 from whom ? ” They took it in their hands and turned it 
 upside down, and looked it well over ; the letters and the 
 address were like Greek to them ; they could not make out 
 anything. 
 
 “ Bhaya , is the postman standing outside ? Ask him 
 where it is from,” said Kakubai. 
 
 “ He has gone,” said Bhaya. 
 
 The whole household was in a state of excitement and 
 confusion, but within half-an-hour, to their relief, the wheels 
 of the carriage were heard, and Mr. Vasudevrav appeared 
 .The telegram was at once handed to him. He opened it 
 and read, “ Brother dangerously ill,, come immediately'.' 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 Mis face turned pale and he looked at his watch. It was 
 half-past eight. Kakubai and Anandibai ventured to come 
 out and asked what was the matter. 
 
 “ Dinnanath is ill, and I must go by to-night’s train.” 
 
 Anandibai immediately rushed into the kitchen and 
 served dinner for her husband. Then she put a few things 
 in a bag, while Mr. Vasudevrav looked to see if he had 
 sufficient money, and snatching the bag, he jumped into 
 the carriage which had been ordered to return, and drove 
 to the Victoria Station. On his way he stopped at a house 
 where his head clerk resided, and told him to look after the 
 affairs and the home people, and if there were any clients 
 to send them to Mr. Chitnis, a friend and neighbour of 
 Mr. Vasudevrav. He caught the train, and taking a first 
 class ticket seated himself wearily, expecting the worst of 
 news. 
 
 Kaku and Anandibai did not dine, but sat up with 
 heavy hearts. 
 
 No one bad noticed Ratan except the maid, who washed 
 her eyes, and then both walked right upstairs to the top 
 room, and as Ratan lay down, the maid sang softly some 
 Hindu airs which sent her to sleep. Ratan’s father had 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 come and gone, and she had been perfectly ignorant of 
 this, and even of the arrival of the telegram. She was, 
 however, made to rise just before the household retired and 
 take a little supper, after which she went to bed. Anan- 
 dibai lay awake by her daughter’s side until early 
 morning, when she managed to get sleep for about an hour. 
 Kakubai was simply prostrate. Every now and then she 
 would exclaim : “ Oh Narayan ! What will happen to 
 Dinnath ? Oh ! do not make his wife a widow I beseech 
 of Thee, O God.” She would, however, resign herself by 
 saying, “ We must submit to Fate.” 
 
 It was a sad night, indeed ; but all rose early and 
 went about the daily duties. Mr. Vasudevrav did not 
 write or telegraph. He had gone, and with his return, 
 he would bring the news, whether good or bad, and the 
 poor, anxious people in the house waited for his return 
 every day. On the fifth day, two carriages drove to the 
 door in the early morning. Mr. Vasudevrav got out of the 
 first one ; and, without saying a word, walked in, and 
 flung himself on a sofa in a disturbed manner. Out 
 of the second carriage a most astonishing and pitiful figure 
 stepped out, and seated herself on the ground, weeping 
 loudly. Then, bending her head, which was shaved but 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 covered with her “ padar”* she knocked it against a huge 
 stone, and became desperate with grief. Anandibai and 
 Kakubai rushed to the door and beheld Dinnath’s 
 widow. They shuddered at the sight. In the study they 
 found Mr. Vasudevrav prostrate but silent. The two ladies 
 gave way to their feelings, but Vasudevrav, with emotion, 
 told them to be quiet, and to take in the poor girl for his 
 brother’s sake. Then Kakubai wailed loudly, and said : 
 “ The wretch has swallowed our Dinu! Why did she 
 marry him ? To eat him up in this way ! Why hast thou 
 brought this ill-luck into the house ? She will surely 
 swallow someone here. Our Dinu has gone, and she is 
 nothing to us now ” ; and the poor old lady shook and 
 wailed most pitifully. The young widow again knocked 
 her forehead against a stone in desperate grief. She would 
 have indeed preferred to have followed her husband on the 
 funeral pile. Her life was a blank now. The light—the 
 god of her life—was no more. “ What is the use of living ! ” 
 thought she. She fell backwards and appealed to the god 
 of death. “ Oh, Death ! carry me away,” exclaimed the 
 poor, stricken creature; and with the last word she fainted 
 
 * The end part of the sari. 
 
( 36 ) 
 
 away. For two hours there was utter confusion, and no 
 one would ask her to come in—not even the servant ; and 
 there she sat on the bare ground, crushed with grief, until 
 she fainted away. The fainting and falling attracted the 
 people of the house, and the servant was ordered to bring 
 some water, which was sprinkled on her face ; and when 
 she came to herself, she was led into the verandah, where 
 she sat down—-a sight of pity and misery. 
 
 Poor little Ratan had now come to know of her 
 uncle’s illness and the cause of her father’s journey. But 
 all that had happened in the morning shocked her fear¬ 
 fully, for when the confusion and the weeping began, she 
 simply stood aloof, and turned pale. She soon went to her 
 mother’s side ; and, holding her sari , she gave way to 
 convulsive sobs and cries, until the father took her near 
 him and quieted her. 
 
 To turn now to the place where Mr. Vasudevrav had 
 proceeded after the arrival of the telegram. 
 
 The younger and only brother of Mr. Vasudevrav was 
 Principal of a Government Pligh School at Nasik, and this 
 year the great festival “ SinJiasta ” was going on. These 
 pilgrimages and festivals are more or less the cause of the 
 malady—cholera—in up country places, and as usual the 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 cholera epidemic came, and carried off -Mr. Dinnath, as 
 well as a hundred others, leaving his wife, Tarabai, a widow 
 of fourteen years. 
 
 Poor Tarabai had been married only the year before. 
 Her father, Sittaram Krishnarav Sanzgiri, was a clerk in 
 one of the Government offices, and had died when Tara 
 was but a child. Then her mother, Shantabai, who lived 
 with a relative away in the Konkan, was too glad to get 
 her little girl married to a man of position and learning, 
 for she felt the burden of life immensely after the 
 death of her husband. Six months after marriage it 
 was thought that Tarabai was big enough to look 
 after the household affairs, so when Dinnath came to his 
 brother for his holidays the last time, he took away his 
 young bride to attend to the house, and if possible he 
 meant to instruct her in the late hours of the evening. 
 They lived very happily, but though it seemed a most 
 fortunate lot for Tarabai, it was too soon embittered by the 
 heavy blow she had now sustained in the death of her 
 husband. 
 
 Mr. Vasudevrav had been devoted to his brother, and 
 his death was a great blow for him too. The poor girl 
 widow could not be sent to her mother, for she lived in an 
 
( 38 ) 
 
 out-of-the-way place, where people were very bigotted and 
 foolish. So thinking the best thing would be to place his 
 brother’s wife under his shelter, he had brought her home. 
 
 The whole house now went into mourning, except 
 Ratanbai, who no longer belonged to her own family, 
 having been already married into another. The ladies 
 were in the inner apartment, and friends, caste brothers and 
 sisters and relations came in hundreds to pay visits of con¬ 
 dolence. Mr. Vasudevrav kept to his office room, whither 
 the gentlemen came. The ladies came and sat beside the 
 mourners Anandibai and Kakubai. The young widow was 
 in an inner apartment, prostrate on the ground. The 
 mourners wept, and the visitors wept, and then the poor 
 widow' wailed loudly. Some of the old and ignorant ladies 
 w'ould even say hard things ; but in all this visiting, no 
 word of comfort or condolence w r as given to the stricken 
 girl. 
 
 Ratanbai w'as very sad too, and she would nestle by 
 her mother’s side, and sob and weep. Anandibai and 
 Kakubai could not touch anything for eleven days, so 
 Ratan looked after the house, and made herself most useful 
 and helpful. She had felt, however, very differently from 
 her mother. Her young widowed aunt had touched her 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 heart, and though she lamented the loss of her uncle 
 immensely, yet she sorrowed more for the poor widow. 
 She could not realise the change. Six months ago, when 
 Tarabai had left the house to go to Nasik with “ Kaka,"* 
 how beautiful she was ! Ratanbai had unfolded the new 
 black sari which was given to her on the occasion of her 
 aunt’s departure to her new home. How sweet Tarabai 
 looked in the lovely red cashmere shawl as she stepped 
 into the laudau, and drove to the station with her husband. 
 “ How nicely we got on ; we got to be quite friends. I loved 
 her,” thought Ratanbai ; and when she saw the same aunt, 
 hardly to be recognised, her heart was not filled with hard 
 and cruel thoughts. She loved her, and Ratan’s resolution 
 was to be kind to her while «he kept house for the eleven 
 days. She went to Tarabai every morning, and asked her 
 to wash and take a little tea or milk. She again looked 
 after her during mid-day, and saw that she slept comfortably 
 at night. Man)- a time she sat by her, and said, “ Kaki,\ 
 do not cry.” 
 
 Whilst Ratanbai kept house, she rose earlier than usual, 
 and first attended to the safe bringing in of the milk. 
 
 * Uncle. 
 
 t Dear Aunt. 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 They had two cows and a buffalo of their own. She took 
 her bath, and next heated the milk on the fire, and poured 
 it gently into brass cups, which she carried to the room of 
 her mother and aunt. After asking her mother how much 
 of the milk was to be kept for butter and curds, she 
 accordingly gave orders to the servant in charge of these 
 matters. Then she ordered breakfast ; telling the cook 
 what vegetables to prepare, and in what way they should 
 be dressed. Her next occupation was to peel and cut up 
 the potatoes carefully, and to wash the leafy vegetables. 
 Then she went to the store-room, which was near the 
 kitchen, and gave out the provisions to the cook. At 
 about that time, too, the cow-boy and the buffalo-man and 
 the coachman came for their supplies, and Ratan stood 
 with keys in hand, while they took out the necessary 
 quantities. If money was needed by the servants for 
 “ bazar ” purchases, she went to her mother, who threw to 
 Ratan her purse,* telling her how much money to take 
 out. Ratan, having thrown the purse again to her mother, 
 would give the amount to the servants. Shortly before 
 
 * Her mother was a mourner, and as such might not come into 
 contact with anyone. 
 
( 41 ) 
 
 breakfast, Ratan undertook the duty of making bread (polli 
 or chupatties), which her mother usually made, for Mr. 
 Vasudevrav always liked what his wife had cooked. 
 Ratan therefore (in her sov/e*) seated herself near the fire¬ 
 place, with the kneaded flour and fresh tup (clarified butter) 
 by her side and a board and rolling pin in front, to make 
 the breakfast cakes. Adding plenty of butter, she rolled 
 the dough again and again, clapping it between her tiny 
 hands, it was then thrown into a clean iron pan over a slow 
 fire. Ratan meanwhile made another cake, still keeping an 
 eye on the cake that was being cooked, which needed to be 
 turned every minute. When she had made enough, she 
 buttered and folded the cakes, placing them carefully in a 
 vessel kept for them only. Washing her hands, she told 
 the cook that the lowest three cakes were for her father and 
 the next two for Kakubai. These two had always food that 
 was specially prepared for them. The meals now had to be 
 served in each one’s apartment, and Ratan helped in all 
 this. She saw that everyone had a nice clean plate and 
 sufficient water. First she attended to her father, and then 
 to her mother and to her aunts. She herself had her meals 
 
 * A silk sari. 
 
 4 
 
( 42 ) 
 
 last of all, afterwards. Ratan then sat near a window on a 
 low stool, with a quantity of rice near her, which she cleaned 
 grain by grain to make it ready for cooking.* At about 
 half-past one, visitors arrived and went on coming, and 
 Ratan then quietly sat by her mother. In the evening 
 there was another plain meal, except that for Mr. Vasudevrav 
 something special was prepared, and Ratan always attended 
 to this. Thus her days passed. 
 
 The days of the mourning were now over, and all 
 went on as usual. Mr. Vasudevrav, as a sign of mourning, 
 put a white head dress on instead of a coloured one. The 
 ladies dressed as usual. The shock of grief, however, did 
 not leave the family for some time, and what had passed 
 was in constant remembrance because of the young widow 
 being in the house. 
 
 Ratanbai, after an absence of nearly a month, began 
 again to go to school. The news of her uncle’s death had 
 already been made known to all, and amongst the friends- 
 who had visited the afflicted family, some had come from 
 the school. For two months there were no further 
 interruptions. 
 
 * This is a daily household occupation for the women. 
 
A KONKANASTHA BRAHMIN FAMILY 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
( 43 ) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 One evening Ratanbai on returning from school, rushed 
 into the house, and embracing her mother, said : “ Mother, 
 
 dear, Mrs. B-, who visits our school, has invited us to a 
 
 party at her bungalow next week ; and the teacher told us 
 to-day all those who come regularly to school, and do the 
 lessons well, will be taken to this party: so you will let me 
 go every day, won’t you ? pleaded the child. The mother 
 promised ; but Kakubai, who was near, said : “ Why do 
 you want to go to the English people's houses ? They will 
 give you something to eat, and defile you.” And, turning 
 to Ratan’s mother, she added: “ Anandi,you had better tell 
 Ratan that she must not eat anything there.” 
 
 Ratanbai. Is there any harm in eating the fruits? 
 
 Kakubai. No ; you may have fruit, but do not touch 
 anything else. 
 
 The day of the party arrived, and Ratan, who was 
 
( 44 ) 
 
 regular at school, came home early to dress. Her mother 
 arranged her hair, and dressed her in a quiet but costly 
 sari, allowing her no extra jewels except a nose ring. The 
 girls were to start exactly at a quarter to four from the 
 school, and Ratan was in the midst of the excited and 
 happy party just ten minutes earlier. The carriages came 
 one by one to the door, and the girls, in groups of five and 
 six, took their seats, and drove up to Malabar Hill, to one 
 of those beautiful bungalows which command a splendid 
 view of the city and its surroundings. It was nearly eight 
 o’clock when Ratanbai returned home, and after she had 
 hurriedly thrown her shawl on the “ chowphala she sat 
 down before Kakubai and began relating the evening’s 
 history. As Ratan began, Tarabai, who was in the inner 
 apartment, drew closer to the door, and listened in¬ 
 tently to her bright happy niece : “ There were twelve 
 carriages, and in each about six or seven sat. When 
 
 we came to the house, Mrs. B- and her daughter 
 
 received us, and first we were taken into the cloak¬ 
 room, where our shawls were kept, and each of us 
 had a veni (flower-wreath) given her, which we put in our 
 
 * Swing. 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 hair. Then we went upstairs into the Dizvankhana. It 
 was so pretty with mirrors and curtains, and pictures and 
 piano. There were silk and satin sofas and chairs, and 
 photographs were kept in silver frames. Alter a while we 
 were told ‘ tea was ready.’ At this the girls simply rose 
 to their feet and said: ‘No tea for us.’ But Muktabai 
 came near, and assured us that we were to have fruit and 
 not tea. Then we went downstairs into the dining room. 
 It is a large, beautiful room, with pretty pictures and 
 mirrors, and any amount of glass things. There was a large 
 table in the middle, and on it was a beautiful white cloth, 
 and on this the plates, knives, forks, and glasses were 
 arranged. There were fruits—mangoes, figs, grapes, oranges, 
 plantains, custard apples, pineapples, and pumbalozvs. 
 Beside these were pedhe* and barp!:i * All round this large 
 table were chairs, and when we were told to take our seats 
 it was such fun ! We had never in our lives sat at table 
 before, and at first we were all backward to do it; and 
 when we did sit some of us made mistakes. Kamallabai and 
 Nanibai sat together first on one chair, and we did laugh ; 
 Gangabai, while cutting a mango, cut her finger, and 
 Balajipant, the Brahmin, had to take her outside to tie it 
 
 * Native sweets. 
 
( 4 6 ) 
 
 up. Some girls sucked the mango instead of cutting it, and 
 the juice all ran down over the clean white cloth ; and one 
 of the girls, while helping herself to an orange, hit a glass, 
 which fell into bits on the floor.” 
 
 Kakubai. Then you caused much damage to the poor, 
 kind madam ? 
 
 Ratanbai. But she was most kind. First, we told her 
 that we could not sit at the table and eat, but she would 
 not listen, and so we did our best. There were so many 
 kinds of fruits, and the table looked so pretty with the 
 flowers ; and Balajipant was there to serve, so it was a 
 regular Hindu repast. 
 
 Kakubai. After eating, how did you manage about the 
 water ? 
 
 Ratanbai. Oh, then we were taken outside to the pipe, 
 and Balajipant gave us water, and then we went into the 
 playground at the back and had games. We played one 
 or two English games, but the girls enjoyed “ zhima ”* and 
 
 * Zhima, is a game constantly played by girls. Four stand in 
 a group, and they move on backwards and forwards in a circle, 
 clasping one another’s bauds, and making a sharp noise with their 
 finger and thumb. When the game is played fast, with many 
 groups, it looks very graceful. 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 “phugadi ”* most. After a little rest we went again into 
 the Diwankhana, and heard singing and playing. Mrs. 
 
 B- played the piano, and Miss B- sang. When 
 
 Miss B-began I thought she was crying, but we were 
 
 told afterwards that that was the way English ladies sing. 
 
 After the singing, Mrs. B-taught us a new game called 
 
 u Thimble,” and then I was asked to recite “ Meddlesome 
 Matty,” and Dwarkabai and Manjulabai played a duet on 
 the piano. When it got dark we were anxious to return 
 
 home, and as we rose to go, Mrs. B-came near and 
 
 told us that we must go and spend such evenings with her 
 often, for it had given her much pleasure to have us there. 
 She told us to be good girls and attend school regularly, 
 and before long there will be another party for us. 
 Sonabai then carried in the tray of flowers which we had 
 brought from school, and I put the garlands round their 
 necks. They were glad—but so surprised ! Then one 
 of the elder girls came forward and said a few simple 
 sentences in English to thank the ladies. After this we 
 
 * Phugadi is played by two girls who stand opposite, their 
 feet touching one another. They cross hands, and holding tightly, 
 balance backwards and whirl round. 
 
( 48 ) 
 
 sang the Queen’s “ stotra ”* and came downstairs. Mrs. 
 
 B-shook hands with us upstairs, and when we got into 
 
 our carriages she came down and saw us again. She is so 
 kind and beautiful, and her house is simply a little palace. 
 The punkahs, the carpets, the curtains, and the mirrors 
 were so pretty. 
 
 Here Ratan’s mother said : “ That will do now ; have 
 some supper, and talk about your party afterwards. The 
 whole night will not suffice for you to tell about it all.” 
 
 “ I have had so many fruits and sweets to-day,” said 
 Ratanbai, “that I do not feel much inclined to have 
 supper. But I will try a little rice and ‘ sambare .’ ”*f* 
 
 As Ratan rose to go, Ivakubai, with a disturbed look 
 on her face, began, “ I cannot think what enjoyment the 
 girls find in going to parties. Why do we want all this ? 
 It is not so very essential. Did we have these enjoyments 
 in our days ? And yet we grew up and prospered. 
 Where did we go to school ? Did we even handle a book ? 
 We went to the temples daily and worshipped Mdravti. 
 
 * Hymn. 
 
 f A very tasty dish made of the juice of lentils. 
 
( 49 ) 
 
 We did household work, and attended to “ veui phaui."* 
 The girls of these days want to go to school, to parties, to 
 sabhas, and eat fruits from, the “ vtlench ”*j* hands. It is true 
 the Brahmin served, but it was in the house of English 
 people. We are Arya, but our Aryanism is getting all 
 defiled. People are mad after English. Who are these 
 English ? Are not they incarnations of monkeys ? only the 
 tail is not allowed them. What if they arc rulers? We 
 must not forget our caste and religion ! Truly sin is raging, 
 and the world is coming to an end. Oh Narayan ! do 
 thou open the eyes of the people! ” Thus talked 
 Kakubai; and giving a deep sigh, she stretched herself on 
 the floor for a nap. 
 
 Ratan went to sleep rather excited and tired that 
 evening. 
 
 Eor six weeks all went on as usual. Then came the 
 “ Shravana” month. It occurs about in August, and every 
 young Hindu wife is then kept very busy. 
 
 The first day of the month fell on a Saturday. 
 Everyone in Mr. Vasudevrav’s house was up at an early 
 
 * The toilet, 
 f Unclean. 
 
( 50 ) 
 
 hour. Washing and bathing were finished before day¬ 
 break, and then hundreds of voices in the street were heard 
 calling shanvar vadha.% The lowest caste women, with 
 baskets on their heads, in which is an oil-can or bottle, a 
 tin pot, &c., go on this day from door to door from a very 
 early hour calling out shanvar vadha. Anandibai came 
 out and beckoned to one of the women, who, laying her 
 basket on the floor, took out a-half cocoanut-shell and held 
 it before Anandibai, who stood aloof, catching her sari 
 carefully, so as not to touch the woman. Holding a small 
 cup, full of sweet oil, Anandibai waved it over the 
 unfortunate woman’s head and poured it into the shell, and 
 afterwards looked at her reflection in it. Then giving her 
 a few small articles, Anandibai went indoors, and the 
 woman, placing the oil in the basket, which she put on her 
 head, went away shouting the same words. The waving 
 of the oil and the giving it away meant that all the abuse, 
 the misery, and unhappiness of the family would rest on 
 this woman, and she was contented with her lot, for 
 according to the Shastras, her caste is bound to take the 
 curse and misery in that fashion, so that the gods may be 
 
 + Please give alms on Shravana Saturday ! 
 
( 5i ) 
 
 pacified. Many a time, however, she does not find that 
 misery follows, and she always likes to get a good quantity 
 of the oil, which is real gain to her. 
 
 After a while Ratanbai came out with her cup of oil, 
 and, beckoning to one of the women, performed the same 
 ceremony. The woman, instead of going away immediately, 
 stood still and said, “ Bai saheb, give me a choli ; see, mine 
 is all torn,” showing a worn-out bodice on her body. Ratan 
 ran in, and said to her mother, “ Mother, dear, may I give 
 my green silk choli to her ? I do not wear it now, since the 
 mango juice fell on it.” To this her mother consented, and 
 Ratan ran upstairs and fetched it, and held her hand 
 forward for the woman to take it, but her mother saw her, 
 and shouted, “ Ratan, throw it at her, or else you will touch 
 her.” So Ratan, rolling it into a ball, threw it into the 
 basket. The woman’s eyes glistened, and her face beamed 
 as she took it into her hand and looked at it, and with 
 blessings and thanks, intimating that she would surely 
 come the next Saturday, went away. The rest of the day 
 was spent as usual. 
 
 The Shravana Monday is always observed as a fast, 
 and there are four of these fasts. Ratan rose as usual, 
 and took a little milk before going to school. This was 
 
( 52 ) 
 
 allowed her, because of her delicate constitution. Her 
 mother and others fasted the whole day. The schools 
 for girls at this season are always closed at I o’clock 
 on Mondays, for the married girls and others arrive at 
 school fasting. At i, then, Ratan returned home, and she 
 was hungry, so was allowed to take fruits. Fasting means 
 generally going without cooked food ; milk, fruits, and 
 sweets are allowed. In the evening they all bathed, and 
 broke their fast by taking a simple meal. 
 
 The Shravana mangalwar, commonly known among 
 the Hindu ladies as the “ mangalagavri” day, is a great 
 day with the newly married girls. Ratan had been married 
 now for more than a year, so she had nothing to do 
 regarding it in her own home ; but she was invited by a 
 sister-in-law, who was newly married, and who thus had 
 to keep the festival. On mangalagavri Tuesday Ratan, 
 therefore, did not go to school, for she had to be at 
 her father-in-law’s, and she was to return home to go to 
 Walkeshwar to attend the “puja ” of the goddess at her 
 sister-in-law’s house. At 2 o’clock she dressed, and, with 
 her mother, drove to Malabar Hill. Both the mother and 
 daughter were received most warmly, and were led into a 
 large room, where a number of young wives, dressed very 
 
( 53 ) 
 
 charmingly in their best saris, were seated on the floor 
 most comfortably, talking in a noisy fashion. Among the 
 young wives were some of Ratan’s school companions. 
 In a couple of minutes Ratan was in the midst of her 
 friends, enjoying herself thoroughly. The mothers sat in 
 groups also apart, and there was such a great noise, as all 
 were talking, young and old—not, however, about the 
 goddess, they were gossiping as to matters pertain¬ 
 ing to themselves. The young people talked about 
 school and home and sasar. In the meantime, Hirabai, 
 Ratan’s sister-in-law, fetched a match-box, and, walking 
 towards the side where the shrine was adorned with lamps, 
 candles, flowers, and a thousand ornaments, lighted the 
 lamps. Anandibai, who was carefully examining the 
 arrangements, said, “ ‘ Mangalagavri ’ is too far back, place 
 her a little forward, Hiroo.” The young girl, who was 
 dressed very prettily in yellow silk with silver trimming, 
 lifted the folds of her sari in front, and stretching her 
 small but jewelled arm, brought the goddess a little 
 forward, and then turned to ask if it would do. “Yes,” 
 said Anandibai; and the little wife went on with her 
 business of worshipping it in the customary manner. 
 Then, after treating her young friends with sweets, &c., 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 the ceremony was at an end. Before 7 o’clock all the 
 guests went away, and so did Ratan and her mother. 
 This ceremony had to be performed the following three 
 Tuesdays, and Ratanbai was always invited, so she and her 
 friends had some pleasant meetings. 
 
 The shravana month, however, came to an end, and 
 Ratanbai rejoiced to be once more regular at her studies. 
 For a month she was able to go to school. 
 
 One afternoon, a distant relative called on Anandibai, 
 and in the course of her conversation said : “ I was at your 
 Ratanbai’s mother-in-law’s, and your Vihinbai* said,‘When 
 Ratanbai is with us we never send her to school ; but her 
 parents are inclined to be of the ‘ reformed’ party ; and she, 
 being the only child, they pet her, and send her just because 
 s/ie likes to go ; but they should consider our wish in the 
 matter, and not allow her to attend school.” 
 
 Both Kakubai and Anandibai were very troubled to 
 hear this remark, and Kakubai, said “ Anandi, tell Vasudev 
 this to-night, and do not allow Ratan to go to school from 
 to-morrow.” Anandibai was very sorry for Ratan’s sake, 
 for though she herself was opposed to educating her daughter. 
 
 * The term used by the mother for the child's mother-in-law. 
 
( 55 ; 
 
 she allowed matters to take their course, because dear Ratan 
 was so fond of her school and teachers. 
 
 Ratan, as usual, returned home in the evening, and after 
 having washed and taken her “ meal,” she began to help 
 her mother in the small household duties. Anandibai was 
 a sensible lady, and knowing how it would hurt her child to 
 hear what her mother-in-law had been saying to people all 
 over the town, she kept silent. In the evening, when Mr. 
 Vasudevrav returned home, the thing was secretly unfolded 
 to him by his wife. But he took no notice of it. Then 
 later on Anandibai again spoke to him about it, and he 
 simply said, “ Do as you please, Anandi. I do not know 
 when you women will understand matters rightly.” Here 
 Kakubai interrupted. “ Oh, Vasudev, you must remove the 
 girl from school. If her sasar's people do not wish it, why 
 should we go against them? You must save her from the 
 ‘sack’* she will have.” The old lady managed to persuade 
 him, and at last it was decided that Ratan should not go to 
 school from the next day. 
 
 Mr. Vasudevrav was very, very sorry ; but because they 
 would not treat the question with reasonable consideration, 
 
 * Ill treatment. 
 
( 56 ) 
 
 lie got tired of their arguments, and said, rather hastily, 
 “Very well, remove her.” 
 
 Ratanbai was kept in perfect ignorance of all this, and 
 her mother was thinking as to how to tell her that she was 
 not to go to school any more. Anandibai’s anxieties were, 
 for the present, soon over, for early the next morning a 
 cocoanut arrived from Anandibai’s sister Champubai’s 
 house, and that meant that a son was born. This was, 
 indeed, happy news to all, and like an answer to her 
 anxious prayer, for now the mother could prevent Ratanbai 
 for a day, at least, on account of this news. The poor 
 child was near her at the time the cocoanut arrived, and 
 Anandibai, after having joyfully replied to the bearer that 
 she would be there after the meal, gently said to her girl, 
 “ Ratanbai, we will go to mavashi * so do not go to school, 
 dear, to-day.” To this the child assented, though in a 
 disappointed manner. 
 
 After breakfast, Anandibai hurried to her sister’s with 
 her daughter to see the new born babe. They spent a few 
 hours in Champubai’s room. Anandibai sat and stood at 
 a distance while she, with Ratan, looked at her new nephew. 
 
 * Aunt. 
 
( 57 ) 
 
 The little fellow was stared at very minutely, and after 
 •careful examination it was pronounced that he promised to 
 be fair like the mother—to the satisfaction of all. 
 
 Amongst the many lady visitors (who were mostly 
 relatives) Anandibai’s elder sister was there. She informed 
 all of her intended visit to Goa. The day for starting, 
 she said, was fixed for the following Monday. 
 
 As Ratan had gone into another room with the young 
 companions who, like herself, had come with their mothers, 
 Anandibai said to her sister, “Will you take our Ratanbai 
 to Goa, too ? I must, however, ask her mother-in-law. 
 We have now removed her from school, and I want her to 
 be occupied, as she will, I fear, take it to heart ; and, 
 besides, it will be a nice change for her to go with you and 
 Kamalla. Take her to the temples there, and show her 
 our gods.” 
 
 “If her mother-in-law allows her I shall take her ; she 
 will be good company to our Kamalla,” said the sister, 
 whose name was Sonabai. It was then decided to ask 
 Ratanbai’s mother-in-law, and if she consented to send her 
 with Sonabai, her elder mavashi .* After partaking of 
 
 Aunt. 
 
 4 
 
( 58 ) 
 
 refreshments, Anandibai rose to depart. Catching the corner 
 of her padar* and bringing it under her arm round her waist, 
 where she tucked it, and throwing her handsome grey 
 cashmere shawl across her shoulders, she took leave of her 
 very revered mother, promising at the same time to come 
 every day to see Champu. 
 
 The first thing Anandibai did after she got home was 
 to send a most respectful message over to Ratan’s mother- 
 in-law asking her opinion about Ratan’s accompanying her 
 aunt Sonabai to Goa. To this the reply came, “ Send her 
 anywhere, but do not send her to school.” It was, then, 
 thus settled, but Ratanbai was kept in ignorance of her 
 being removed from school. She was told to go to school 
 and take two months’ leave, to pay the fees for those 
 months, and to tell the Bai that she was going to Goa with 
 her aunt. Ratan obeyed sadly and reluctantly, and the 
 teachers and the girls were very sorry indeed to lose her, 
 though they were led to suppose, for a time only. Now, 
 Mr. Vasudevrav’s consent was to be obtained, and that 
 duty was left to strict old Kakubai, who after an unpleasant 
 struggle of four days, succeeded ; and the next day 
 
 * The end- part of the sari. 
 
( 59 ) 
 
 Ratanbai with a heavy heart started for Goa. The party 
 consisted of eleven, including the servants. Ratan felt 
 leaving her parents, as they did, too, at parting from her ; 
 but she was very soon happy again, as she was with aunt 
 Sonabai and her cousin Kamalla, to whom she was devoted. 
 Before her marriage she used to spend a great deal of her 
 time at her aunt’s, and now, too, every now and then a 
 special invitation was often sent to her to spend the day 
 or evening with them. Anandibai and Kakubai, who could 
 not help their tears when saying good-bye, were aware that 
 she would be at ease with Sonabai and her children. 
 
 The party for Goa started early in the morning from 
 the Carnac Bunder, in one of the coasting steamers, for 
 Vengurle, where they landed by sunset. Relatives who had 
 been written to before-hand were on the pier to receive 
 them. Soon they find themselves in one of the old- 
 fashioned but strongly built houses in the heart of the 
 town. They did not do much talking, as the sea-sickness, 
 which had attacked almost all of them, made them quiet. 
 A good tempting meal had been prepared for them, but 
 though they sat “ at the leaves”* they only attempted to eat 
 
 * Portions of plantain leaves are still often used instead of plates. 
 
( 6o ) 
 
 a few mouthfuls. This country home, though owned 
 by a very wealthy family, was furnished according to 
 old customs of the place. There were no chairs, bed¬ 
 steads, or tables. The ground served instead for every¬ 
 thing. There was an upper storey, and, in a large airy 
 room, mattresses were most comfortably laid, where the 
 beds had been arranged by the servants. The young 
 people all retired just as they were. Sonabai and the ladies 
 sat up talking for a while before retiring. The mother, 
 with her four children and Ratan, all slept in a row. On 
 the other side lay two other ladies with their five children. 
 A dim light was kept burning the whole night. 
 
 Ratan was the first one to awake in the morning. She 
 had had a good rest, and felt refreshed. She half lifted 
 herself, and looking round, saw that all were asleep. Laying 
 her untidy head on the low pillow, she gazed out of the 
 open window at the lovely clear sky, and her thoughts 
 wandered to her home and her mother. Then gently 
 touching her cousin Kamalla, who lay rolled up in a sheet, 
 she said, “ Kamalla, get up.” Her cousin, without saying a 
 word or even opening her eyes, covered herself in the sheet, 
 and turned her back to Ratan. So Ratan turned to the 
 other side, and found her little boy cousin smiling gleefully, 
 
( 6i ) 
 
 and kicking his fat little limbs. She played with him until 
 something displeased him, and then he set up a terrible 
 shriek, which woke all in the room. The servants were 
 up, and were now busy getting the baths ready. By 
 eleven o’clock the whole household was up. Bathing over, 
 they sat down to a substantial breakfast. The rice, bread, 
 milk and butter all tasted most delicious. After breakfast, 
 a little loitering about took place, and arrangements were 
 made for the onward journey. In the afternoon, some of 
 the shrines in the town were visited, and though Ratan was 
 feeling very strange, yet she enjoyed it all. 
 
 The following day they started for the next place, 
 and two months were spent in visiting the temples and 
 shrines and in travelling. During this time Ratanbai 
 constantly wrote to her teachers and school friends of 
 the pleasant time she was having. Here is one of her 
 letters :— 
 
 Savvantwadi, Nov. 13. 
 
 My dear Manjulabat,—Much affectionate respect. I received 
 your letter, and I was very glad to read the news. Now our next 
 address is Ganpat Shanturam Vauhjas house. No. 2, Kolapur. 
 We visited the shrine of-and worshipped them. We bathed 
 
( 62 ) 
 
 in the tank, too. We went to the “ Vada "* and saw the 
 Rani Sahel-. 
 
 The hills and the valleys are beautiful, and the air so pleasant. 
 We do not know when we shall return. I am, however, enjoying 
 the travelling. Remember me most gratefully to all the teacheis. 
 
 When we went to see the Rani Saheb, she made me sing, and 
 asked me many things. I am so sorry to lose my lessons, but you 
 must let me know the lessons you are learning, and as I have 
 brought a few books with me, I will learn them up, so as not to fall 
 too behind. I hope all at home are quite well.—Your dear friend, 
 
 Ratan. 
 
 The teachers, knowing Ratanbai was out of town, were 
 not surprised at her absence ; but one morning, one of the 
 girls brought the news to school that she was never coming 
 again. This news was received with much disappointment. 
 Ratanbai and her aunt stayed away for a fortnight longer 
 than had been intended, and after their return Ratan was 
 sent to her mother-in-law’s; it was there only that she 
 came to know she was not to go to school any more. 
 Never was she to handle a book now. “ I wish I had 
 known how to converse in English. Sasuhai should have 
 
 * Palace. 
 
(In Mrs. Nikambe’s School ) 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 kept me at school till then ; no pleasure or interest for me 
 now. Oh! what shall I do with myself the whole day?” 
 The young girl’s heart was full of grief; but she knew she 
 must submit to the Sasu’s rule, and she tried to be brave 
 about it. 
 
 Four months passed, and Ratan’s life grew dull and 
 cheerless. She did not know how to while away the time 
 without books or some sort of pleasant occupation. She 
 did attend to the household duties : sometimes she sat 
 cleaning the rice, sometimes sewing, or she had to make 
 the sweets ; but, literally, her day was mostly spent in 
 doing nothing. At the mother-in-law’s, she would simply 
 sit through the long hours of the day with her mother-in- 
 law and the other ignorant lady, and they would stare out 
 of the windows from time to time or fall asleep on the 
 mat. Ratanbai was most miserable, and she longed to 
 be at school. Mow often, with an aching heart, she 
 would sit dreaming about the school life ! Her teacher, 
 her companions, her singing lesson, the English lesson, 
 the translation class, came before her, and then the 
 longing would come : “ Oh ! could I but go to school 
 
 once again ! ” 
 
< 64 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THOUGH Ratan was taken from school, she was allowed, 
 whenever she was at her father’s, to pay a visit to 
 her friends at the school house. Her young husband, 
 Prataprao, was permitted to continue his studies, in spite 
 of the threatening difficulties since his father’s death. A 
 distant relative was meantime appointed to look after his 
 father's estate. Prataprao attended the Wilson College, 
 and here the sound education he received, and the 
 exemplary lives he came in contact with day after day, 
 made a great impression on his young heart, and prepared 
 him for the life before him. In appearance he was inclined 
 to be tall and slender. His complexion was fair, his eyes 
 were dark and bright. He dressed, like all Hindu students, 
 in a dhotar * and long coat. His head was always covered 
 
 * The Hindu gentleman’s dress. 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 with the prettiest of embroidered caps. He wore his 
 bikbali, and gold ring, and his dear father’s gold watch 
 and chain. He was very fond of his mother, and respected 
 her much. His two sisters and a younger brother loved 
 their dado.* and looked up to him as a pillar in the family 
 now, since their father’s death. 
 
 When Ratan was removed from school, Prataprao 
 was in his B.A. course. Six months passed ; Nagnathrav, 
 the husband of Ratanbai’s cousin, Kamallabai, was 
 successful in the B.A. examination of the Bombay 
 University, and won a medal. So rejoiced were his 
 parents at this event that they told their son he might ask 
 for any present, however costly, and they would give it 
 him in memory of this brilliant success. The young man, 
 instead of asking for a diamond ring, or a horse and 
 carriage, said to his father, “ Father, nothing will give me 
 so much pleasure as to see my wife being educated at a 
 good school. If my choice is asked, may I request you 
 to prevail upon mother to consent to this only?” The 
 request was made known to the loving mother, who, though 
 disappointed, granted it for her darling boy’s sake ; thus 
 
 * Elder brother. 
 
( 66 ) 
 
 they all began thinking about sending Kamallabai to 
 school. Within a week’s time it was settled, and as 
 (Kamalla would be very lonely at school, it was suggested 
 that Mr. Vasudevrav be asked to allow Ratanbai to 
 accompany her for a few months. 
 
 When, however, Mr. Rambhao (Kamalla’s father-in-law) 
 came to Mr. Vasudevrav, the latter said, “ I am sorry to say 
 my daughter is not in my hands. If you can persuade her 
 mother-in-law and the other lady, Kashinathpant’s wife, 
 in the matter, nothing will give me more pleasure, for I am 
 in favour of our girls and women being educated. If some 
 lady were to open a class for the married ladies, I would 
 ,be the first one to send Anandi. I am thinking, however, 
 of getting a native lady to come to my house and teach 
 her. If Ratan were in my charge, I would send her to 
 school to-day. I would not have allowed her to be kept at 
 home at this early age, when .she was getting on nicely, 
 too ; but our girls are not ours when married ! ” 
 
 Mr. Rambhao was well acquainted with Ratan’s father- 
 in-law’s people, so one evening he went to them for a 
 friendly visit. After a long talk on various matters, the 
 subject was introduced, and so heartily was it taken up by 
 Mr. Kashinathpant (Ratan’s late father-in-law’s brother) 
 
C 6 7 ) 
 
 that he at once went towards the apartment of his widowed 
 sister-in-law, and, standing by the half open door, said : 
 “ Rambhao has come. He is going to send his daughter- 
 in-law to school. Her husband, Nagnath, has passed the 
 B.A. examination, and has gained a big prize. Which 
 school shall we recommend for Kamalla? Do you know 
 anything of Ratanbai’s school ? ” 
 
 Ratan’s mother-in-law came near the door, but without 
 showing herself — the door being half closed—and said: “Yes, 
 it is a nice school, and the only one where big girls go.” 
 
 “ Do you know who ought to be seen there ? ” 
 
 “No ; but Ratan would know.” 
 
 Here Mr. Rambhao rose, and coming near the door, 
 said : “ Our Kamalla is very shy, and would like to have a 
 companion until she gets used to the school ; so will you 
 have any objection to send Ratanbai with her?” 
 
 Ratanbai’s mother-in-law did not answer for a 
 while. Then she said, “ I will ask my ‘ Bala ’ ”* (Ratan’s 
 husband, Prataprao). 
 
 Mr. Rambhao knew “ Bala” well; so now his next duty 
 was to catch hold of him immediately. After spending 
 
 * A pet name. 
 
6S ) 
 
 the evening very happily, he rose and took leave, and was 
 walking out of the compound, when, to his surprise and 
 pleasure, Prataprao, who was returning home from a 
 Sunday evening lecture in the College, stood before him. 
 After exchanging greetings, Mr. Rambhao and he walked 
 out together, and went to the sea beach. It was a lovely 
 moonlight night; the clouds had all rolled away, and the 
 stars were dimly twinkling overhead. The Back Bay 
 waters lay cool and smooth in the basin, and just where 
 Mr. Rambhao with Ratan’s husband stood, the playful 
 waves ran in and out between the black stones. The city 
 was chiefly lit up by this lovely silvery atmosphere, though 
 a few dim lights could be seen. They stood on the beach 
 admiring nature in her evening attire. Behind them were 
 the new-fashioned dwelling houses recently erected and 
 half occupied. They walked up and down the paved path, 
 and then down to the sands, and seated themselves on a 
 large piece of rock. Mr. Rambhao talked on many 
 matters, and then began about education, just to see 
 Prataprao’s turn of mind about it, and to his great 
 happiness he found that Ratan’s husband was in favour of 
 education for women. Mr. Rambhao then spoke to him 
 about the young wives being educated, told him of the 
 
( 69 ) 
 
 attempt they were making to send Kamallabai to school, 
 and at last asked Prataprao to consent to Ratan’s going, 
 should his mother speak to him about it. Prataprao 
 quietly listened, and assented to the final request. Within 
 an hour each went to his house. Mr. Rambhao had gained 
 his object, and it is no exaggeration to say that young 
 Prataprao was happy. 
 
 After two weeks, on a bright Tuesday morning, Ratan 
 was dressed in a pretty navy blue sari (a favourite among 
 her saris), with a handsome silk border. It was worked 
 in Indian embroidery, with white cotton. She looked 
 charming with her bright red Brahmin shoes, and the 
 gracefully folded dress and the flower-wreath in her hair. 
 A new bag was in her hand, and she carefully put in it 
 her old books and other school necessaries. “ Mother, 
 dear, I feel ashamed to go to school now,” Ratan said. 
 Won’t the girls laugh at me?” “Why will the girls 
 laugh?” replied Anandibai. “You know them all, and 
 you like going to school. Besides, Kamalla will be con¬ 
 stantly with you.” Just then the carriage came to the 
 door, a victoria with a beautiful brown horse. Ratanbai 
 put on her shalu while the Bhaya placed her bag in the 
 carriage. She lightly stepped in, the Bhaya attending on 
 
( 70 ) 
 
 her. Driving to Kamalla’s house, and taking her up, they 
 went on towards the school. The teachers and the girls 
 were delighted to see Ratanbai among them again, and 
 they welcomed her cousin most cordially. The time passed 
 very happily. As the singing teacher did not come, the 
 girls were allowed a longer recess, and Ratan joined in all 
 the games. So did Kamalla, who was already pleased 
 with the school and her companions, and thought the life 
 there was indeed happy and bright. In the afternoon, 
 when the lessons were being taken, Ratan found herself 
 very behind her classmates. When she was told to sit in 
 the lower standard she did not like it, and said to her 
 teacher, “ Instead of going into the lower standard, may I 
 go on with the class ? I will ask father to find a teacher 
 for me at home, and with him I will work up the back 
 lessons.” She said this in such a resolute but sweet way, 
 that the teacher gave her a fortnight’s trial ; within that 
 period, if she did not show progress, then it would be 
 clear that she must stay in the lower class. Her cousin 
 Kamalla was put in the “ extra ” class, where the new 
 girls were prepared in the necessary subjects. Ratan 
 assented to her teacher’s arrangement by saying, “ I will 
 learn all the lessons.” She and her cousin left at the 
 
( 7i ) 
 
 usual hour, and each had much to tell to the ladies at 
 home. It was arranged by Mr. Vasudevrav that the 
 victoria should be at the disposal of Ratan for her school, 
 and that she should always call for Kamalla on the way, 
 and drop her on the way back. 
 
 Ratan was now very happy with her studies. At home 
 she had a teacher morning and evening, and in school all 
 her spare moments were either spent with a book in hand, 
 or at her desk writing some exercise. The fortnight 
 passed, and the day for Ratanbai’s examination arrived. 
 It took three hours. All her exercise books she showed 
 first ; every lesson up to date was neatly written. Then 
 she read, spelt, translated, did some writing and arithmetic, 
 grammar, history, and geography, and in all except 
 geography she did well. The manner in which she had 
 taken pains and persevered, pleased the teacher greatly, 
 and she was told to sit in her class with the old com¬ 
 panions. Ratan was delighted, and she resolved now to 
 take more pains with her lessons. 
 
 Ratan’s mother-in-law consented to her going to school 
 at the desire of Prataprao. She was allowed to continue 
 for some months, and she tried to make the best of the 
 opportunity allowed her. 
 
( 72 ) 
 
 After six months, however, discouragement came. 
 Ratanbai’s husband failed in his B.A. examination, which 
 was a great disappointment to all. But Ratan, about 
 the same time, passed in the annual examination of 
 the school very successfully, and was to receive the first 
 prize in the class at the prize distribution to be held in 
 about a month’s time. These two incidents—her husband 
 having failed, and she having passed in her school examina¬ 
 tion—were thought of very seriously by the ladies of 
 Ratan’s “ sasar,”* and the result was that her mother-in- 
 law sent word to Mr. Vasudevrav that her daughter-in-law 
 should be immediately taken from school. 
 
 The message came through a relative, and was delivered 
 in the presence of Ratanbai. As soon as she heard it, she 
 flung herself on her mother’s neck, and wept. “Baba ,"t 
 she said, “do let me go till the prize-giving! I am to get 
 a prize, and the Governor’s lady is coming. Oh, do let me 
 stay till then ! ” The relative, who was an elderly old- 
 fashioned lady, said to Ratan, “Your husband has failed, 
 and what do you want with school and prizes now ? Pray 
 
 * Father-in-law’s house. 
 | Father. 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 to the gods, go to the temples and pay the vows, that he 
 may have success.” 
 
 Ratan kept silent. She did feel so sorry, and the 
 disappointment could be seen in her sad face. That 
 evening she went upstairs into the top room and cried 
 herself to sleep. She refused to rise and have supper, and 
 when her mother went to her she simply wept. 
 
 After much discussion that night between the ladies 
 and Mr. Vasudevrav, it was decided that Ratan should not 
 attend school any more, and that she must stay away from 
 the very next day. It greatly disheartened her, and Mr. 
 Vasudevrav was sorry for Ratan’s sake, but more so on 
 account of her husband. Her cousin Kamallabai felt very 
 grieved, and though she had got to like the school and the 
 girls, she greatly missed Ratan. 
 
 The next day an invitation arrived for Ratan to go and 
 stay a few weeks at Bandora, a suburb near Bombay, and 
 on the following Saturday, Kamalla and Ratan, with two 
 servants and a host of boy cousins, travelled thither. 
 Ratan’s grandmother lived here with her two married sons. 
 A little cousin baby—the first and only child in this house 
 —had died a fortnight ago, and as the house looked dull 
 
 and gloomy, the children, with Ratan and Kamalla, were 
 
 6 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 asked to spend a few days with the family, so that 
 it might be made more cheerful. The little boys were 
 found to be very troublesome and self-willed, and so 
 were sent back to Bombay after four days—Ratan and 
 Kamalla stayed longer. During this time, they not only 
 helped to lighten the sad home, but had many a talk 
 by themselves, which helped to increase their mutual 
 attachment. 
 
 They took long walks and drives by the beach with 
 their aunts, and had a time of real change and rest. After 
 four weeks, Kamallabai was obliged to return for school 
 to Bombay, so Ratan was left alone. Her aunts were very 
 fond of her, and made much of her, and did not allow her 
 to be lonely or sad. After two months, the grandmother, 
 with her two daughters-in-law, came to Bombay, and 
 Ratan accompanied them, and returned home. 
 
 Prataprao, in his disappointment, had not at first 
 noticed how his girl-wife was treated, but when he set to 
 his studies with a resolute will, he quietly spoke to his 
 mother about Ratan being sent again to school. His 
 request was very reluctantly granted. Kashinathpant’s 
 wife tried to interfere, but somehow the young husband was 
 successful in this effort. By-and-by, as the days of his 
 
( 75 ) 
 
 examination drew near, Ratan’s mother-in-law thought 
 that if her son should succeed, his wife might be kept 
 longer at school in spite of the hateful remarks of the 
 caste brethren. 
 
 The month of December arrived, with the examination, 
 and Ratan was kept at home to make offerings to the 
 gods that there might be success. A month after, when 
 the results were declared, she came to school with a bright 
 beaming face, saying nothing, however, but simply greet¬ 
 ing everyone with a smiling countenance. All knew 
 that her husband had passed his examination. During the 
 recess ” hour one of the girls brought to her the Times of 
 India , in which was the list of the successful candidates. 
 Ratanbai quickly glanced down the list, and came to the 
 name which, according to custom, never passed her lips 
 ■except in a song or a rhyme. She burst out laughing to 
 her heart’s content, as half-a-dozen young wives repeated 
 the name Pratap Harischandra Kliote aloud. She again 
 took the paper, and read aloud two or three names of the 
 husbands of her friends who were among the successful 
 candidates of some other examination. All who knew 
 Prataprao congratulated him on his success, and especially 
 ,his relatives, who were very happy, encouraged him to 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 go to England. This event greatly encouraged Ratan, and 
 she now resolved more than ever to take pains with her 
 studies. 
 
 About eight months had passed, and the clever, per¬ 
 severing Ratanbai appeared to her teachers to be growing 
 a careless girl. Day after day, whenever she came to 
 school from her mother-in-law’s, she did not know her 
 lessons, nor did she write any home exercises. 
 
 As she had been one of the best girls, for a couple of 
 months she was forgiven and was not “ kept in.” At last 
 matters came to such a pass that she could not be allowed’ 
 to escape without being punished. One day she was made 
 to sit in the “ kept in ” class, and was very ashamed, but 
 she said to her friends, “ It is better to learn here than not 
 learn at all,” and she without murmur quietly submitted 
 to the punishment. Just before going home, Ratan went 
 to see her teacher, who said to her, “ I do not like to see 
 you, Ratan, in the c kept in’ class. Won’t you now take 
 pains, and give no further trouble?” To this the little 
 wife simply nodded. 
 
 About twelve days after, one morning Ratanbai walked 
 into the school house with swollen eyes, biting her lips. 
 She threw her shawl down in the room and rushed into 
 
( 77 ) 
 
 the Girls’ Room upstairs, and, throwing herself on the sofa, 
 burst out crying, and sobbed and sobbed until her cousin 
 came and sat by her. 
 
 Kamalla. “ What is the matter, Ratanbai ? ” 
 
 Ratan (sobbing). “ Oh, dear. What shall I do ? ” 
 Kamalla. “ But tell me what is the matter? Is anyone 
 ill ? Or did Sasu scold you ? ” 
 
 Ratan had hid her face in her padar, and, wiping her 
 eyes, she said—“ No, I can bear sasubais scolding. I wish 
 it was her scolding !” 
 
 Kamalla. “ Then what is it—tell me, can’t you ? ” 
 Ratan. “ See, the door is open and someone will hear 
 us. If the classes have gone into the rooms for lessons, 
 go and ask the teacher if you may sit with me for a while, 
 and then I will tell you.” Here Ratan’s eyes filled with 
 tears, and her face was covered in her padar. 
 
 Kamallabai went to ask for the permission, which was 
 fortunately granted, and the door having been locked from 
 the inside, Ratan began to pour her troubles. 
 
 Ratanbai. “ She will not rest until she sees me away 
 from school. Everything has been done to prejudice my 
 mind about education, but I have held on, and, somehow, 
 by God’s help, things have fallen to my lot happily. All 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 these days I have been scolded and punished in school for 
 not learning my lessons properly, and I have had to bear 
 another trouble at home ; for I am never allowed to open 
 my bag or to handle a book. Vithabai has made it her 
 business of late to keep me away from school. In the 
 evenings, when I go home, some work is sure to be ready 
 for me, and I must attend to it. Then, when I have spare 
 time, I must sit on the swing and gossip about all sorts of 
 rubbish or listen to the novels, and before it is nine I must 
 be in bed. My mornings are spent in nearly the same 
 way, only we are busier, for the breakfast is required early. 
 But there is not so much work after all. You know 
 Vithabai and her nature ; she is against education, and 
 therefore is trying her best to remove me from school. I 
 cannot speak to Sasubai, because sometimes she tells things 
 to Sasubai in such a way that I get the worst of it, so I just 
 keep quiet. 5 ’ 
 
 Kamalla. “ And we dare not tell at our Mahera * what 
 happens at Sasar.” 
 
 Ratan. “ Oh, no ! ” 
 
 * Father's house. 
 
( 79 ) 
 
 Kamalla. “ Tell me, what happened to-day.” 
 
 Ratmi. “ Oh, dear! All these days she tried her best 
 to prejudice my mind, and now to-day it has gone so iar 
 that I do not know what to do.” Here Ratanbai buried 
 her face in her padar and burst out crying, and went on 
 sobbing and weeping for about a quarter of an hour. 
 Kamallabai could not bear to see her cousin so unhappy, 
 and she, too, sat with her padar to her eyes and told 
 Ratan to be quiet. They composed themselves, and 
 Ratanbai began : “This morning I went about as usual in 
 the house. I served the breakfast, and helped in matters 
 here and there. When it was ten I got ready for school. 
 Bringing my shawl and bag out, I asked Vithabai if I 
 might go. To this she said”—here Ratan’s eyes again filled 
 with tears, and her padar was up to her face again. After 
 a pause she continued — “ I was just asking, when she said, 
 ‘ School! school! school! Wait, let Prataprao come this 
 evening, I will tell him that I saw you looking at the 
 gardener with an evil eye, and then after your mother-in- 
 law comes to know of it we shall see how you will go to 
 school,’ ” and Ratan, who was sitting erect, flung herself 
 backward, and burying her face in her arms and padar , 
 sobbed most bitterly, only saying now and then, “ Oh, 
 
( So ) 
 
 dear! what shall I do ? ” The two girls sat together, one 
 shocked and the other giving way to convulsive sobs. No 
 one else knew the secret of Ratan’s persecution. Both 
 girls went home that evening with hearts full of thought 
 and anxiety. 
 
 The next few days Ratan did not go to school. One 
 afternoon, as she sat before her mother-in-law with folded 
 hands, a servant came from her father’s house, and saluting, 
 said, “ Rao Saheb has sent me to fetch Ratanbai. Bai 
 Saheb has been ill since last night.” Ratan, hearing this, 
 turned pale, and looked at her mother-in-law, waiting for 
 the consent as to whether she might go. Her mother-in- 
 law told her to go, and she flew into the room for her shawl, 
 which she threw hurriedly over her shoulders, asking, “ Where 
 is the carriage ? ” She was told it was out on the road. 
 With tears in her eyes she took leave of her mother-in-law, 
 and rushed through the garden, and took her seat in the 
 carriage. They drove very fast, and she was soon at the 
 door. There was great confusion. Four doctors were in 
 the house. The neighbouring ladies had come in. Mr. 
 Vasudevrav was wringing his hands, and Kakubai and the 
 other ladies were weeping. Ratan did not know what to 
 do. At last Kaku caught sight of her, and wailed loudly, 
 
( 8i ) 
 
 “ Ratan, dear Ratan, come and see ayce. ’* Ratan went, and 
 oh ! the sight she beheld. Her mother lay lifeless and pale 
 on a bed. The crowd about her were in terror, and were 
 waiting for the doctors’ verdict. Ratan could not believe 
 that was her mother. She looked about the room, and 
 fainted away. The doctors attended to her and sent her to 
 another apartment. After the usual examination, it was 
 said that Anandibai had died of some affection of the heart. 
 The blow was terrible. The news soon spread throughout 
 the town. The priests were informed of it, and they came 
 with the materials for the bier. Anandibai was 
 immediately bathed and dressed in yellow. Her forehead 
 was rubbed with the kunku ; and flowers in garlands 
 and loose were scattered over her body. Relatives and 
 friends in hundreds flocked to Mr. Vasudevrav’s house. 
 There was a good deal of wailing and crying ; and as the 
 body was being carried to be laid on the bier, it was heart¬ 
 rending to hear the continued weeping. Mr. Vasudevrav 
 groaned, and Ratan threw herself on the bier. The 
 funeral dress of the men, whose heads were bare, was 
 entirely white. A cocoanut was placed in Anandibai’s 
 
 * Mother. 
 
( 82 ) 
 
 hands, and four gentlemen lifted the bier, and away it went 
 amidst the din and wailing of all the ladies and the gentle¬ 
 men who stayed behind. Anandibai’s remains were carried 
 through the town in a procession, and the funeral was 
 attended by six hundred gentlemen. 
 
 By ten o’clock all was finished. 
 
 The woman who so devotedly and faithfully filled her 
 position as wife, mother and sister was no more. The 
 house looked desolate, and Mr. Vasudevrav could not 
 believe that he was still in this world. As for poor Ratan, 
 who can describe the pain in that troubled young heart ? 
 
 For eleven days friends and acquaintances crowded in 
 after one o’clock to pay their visits of condolence. Mr. 
 Vasudevrav, as a sign of mourning, shaved off his 
 moustache and dressed in white. Numbers came to 
 comfort the family, and the relatives flocked round Mr, 
 Vasudevrav. On the seventh day, the bathing and 
 purification took place. Still friends kept on coming for 
 about a month. Ratan went to her aunt Sonabai, and 
 Kakubai and Tarabai went to Bandora. Poor Tarabai 
 was very unkindly treated, because of this unhappy event. 
 Kakubai in her wailing often said, “ Tara, you have brought • 
 this ill-luck, and you have been the cause of our misery.” 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 One day, at Bandora, Kakubai spoke very, very un¬ 
 kindly to the young widow, who thinking that she really 
 was the cause of misery to others, resolved to do away with 
 her life. She generally went to bathe on the beach, which 
 was five minutes’ walk from their house. After having 
 planned all, she went out one morning early, and was in 
 the act of throwing herself into the sea when a Hindu 
 reformer, who was taking a walk, saw her and went to her 
 rescue. He knew that the cause of this calamity was ill- 
 treatment, as Tara’s very appearance betrayed that she was 
 a girl widow. This eventually led to her being sent to a 
 Widows’ Home with Mr. Vasudevrav’s consent. 
 
 Days passed very quietly now. At last the October 
 vacation came. Mr. Vasudcvrav did not this time go, as 
 usual, to his house in the country, but went away to the 
 north, visiting the ancient and sacred places. Ratanbai 
 continued to stay with her aunt until her father’s return, 
 spending the latter part of the time with her mother-in-law. 
 ***** 
 
 Five years have rolled away. Mr. Vasudcvrav looks 
 much older ; Ratan’s husband has been to London, and 
 has studied during three years for the Bar. At the 
 time of his departure lie left strict instructions, which 
 
( ) 
 
 were carried out, that Ratan should be sent to school 
 until his return home. Tarabai is still in the Home, where 
 she has studied and been trained as a teacher. She looks 
 very sweet in her “ reformed ” dress. Her hair has grown 
 again. Pier head is no longer covered, but like the other 
 ladies she wears her padar on the shoulder. She has no 
 “ kunku ” and no ornaments, not even glass bangles. She 
 wears a print jacket, and puts on a shawl when out of 
 doors. ICakubai is shocked at the new ways in the family. 
 She does not like the idea of Ratan going to school, nor 
 does she approve of Tara’s education, nor of Ratan’s 
 husband’s going to England. She has asked Mr. Vasudevrav 
 for a considerable sum of money, which he has granted her, 
 and she has set out on a long pilgrimage. There was a 
 great blank in the family circle while Ratan’s husband was 
 in England. 
 
 After a successful career he has returned home, via 
 America, Japan and China, visiting the interesting places 
 on the way. 
 
 About a week after his arrival, one beautiful day, the 
 people at Ratanbai’s sasar seemed to be unusually busy. 
 There is a great bustle among the ladies, and preparations 
 were being made for a quiet ceremony in the evening. 
 
( 85 ) 
 
 The time arrives, and the guests, all ladies, drop in one by 
 one. They are dressed very quietly. The little children 
 are dressed in their pretty costumes. In the inner apart¬ 
 ment two pretty seats with lighted lamps, and silver 
 utensils, are facing each other. The ladies and the children 
 all squat on the floor in front. By and bye Prataprao 
 walks in and takes his seat on one of the low stools. Then 
 follows Ratanbai, who is dressed in the most charming 
 ruby coloured pilao , with jewels and flowers, looks a select 
 “ ratna ”* herself. She bashfully and gracefully stands on 
 the opposite stool, and drawing the silver utensils (basin 
 and water jug) closer, says :— 
 
 The water is clean and the silver is pure, 
 
 May Prataprao's fame ever endure. 
 
 At this the young husband allows his wife to wash his 
 feet in the silver basin. She soon dries them with a towel ; 
 then taking some scented powder says :— 
 
 Spring has come and birds do sing, 
 
 But Prataprao’s virtues joy will bring. 
 
 To his arms then this powder is applied. Then she 
 
 * Jewel. 
 
( 86 ) 
 
 draws a large tray, and holding a huge garland of flowers 
 says :— 
 
 Flowers and foliage are pretty to behold. 
 
 Prataprao’s name gives delight untold. 
 
 when the garland is put round her husband’s neck. 
 
 Then she gives the bouquet in his hand, and while 
 doing so says :— 
 
 Great were the men who adorned our land; 
 
 And greater be Prataprao of the band. 
 
 The panvida * is then given, and when doing so she 
 says again :— 
 
 Spring is the best season of all ; 
 
 May richest blessings on Prataprao fall. 
 
 Ratan’s rhymes were listened to very attentively by 
 the ladies. She soon took her seat on the stool, when 
 Prataprao took up a flower wreath in his hand, and said :— 
 
 It rains, it lightens, it thunders ! 
 
 Ratan, mind don’t you make any blunders. 
 
 and gives the wreath in Ratan’s hand, who then and there 
 puts it into her hair. 
 
 * The folded leaf. 
 
( 87 ) 
 
 While giving the scent he said :— 
 
 In this house you are installed as queen ; 
 
 Therefore, Ratau, let your good example by all be seen. 
 
 Then the vida is given, and Prataprao says while 
 giving:— 
 
 Ratau has prayed for blessings on me ; 
 
 I in return, dear, pray the same for thee. 
 
 The husband and wife, without exchanging any words 
 or looks, rise quietly; Ratan mixes amongst the ladies, 
 and Prataprao goes silently into the drawing room. The 
 dinner immediately follows, and whenever it is Ratanbai’s 
 turn to serve some joke is passed round among the 
 children, who do their best to keep Prataprao lively. 
 
 The guests go away after the dinner, and in the 
 newly furnished room upstairs Ratanbai is looking at the 
 numerous presents on the table and writing-desk when her 
 eye falls on a beautifully bound gilt-edged Book. She 
 grasps it, and is about to open it, when Prataprao, who is 
 by her, seeing his young wife admiring the Book says : “ I 
 must have this Book on my table every day; there are a 
 great many nice things in it which you must know.” To 
 this Ratanbai said : “ I have this Book too.” “ Well,” said 
 
( 88 ) 
 
 her husband as he looked into his young partner’s face, 
 “ then let yours be out too, and we shall make it our guide 
 in life.” 
 
 Thus Prataprao Khote claims young Ratanbai as his 
 partner in life. They begin life together, recognising the 
 responsibilities and duties which lie before them, and which 
 concern not only themselves but their people and their 
 country. 
 
 Shevantibai M. Nikambe. 
 
 J. S. PHILLIPS 121 FLEET STREET, LONDON, E.C.