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The princess went on waving her fan of peacock feathers； and the king finished his meal。
The next morning； as the king came out of his palace； he saw the son of a Brahman gathering sticks in the forest outside the palace gates。 His age was about seven or eight。
The king said： 〃I will marry my daughter to him。〃
Who can interfere with a king's command？ At once the boy was called； and the marriage garlands were exchanged between him and the princess。
At this point I came up close to my wise Grannie and asked her eagerly： 〃What then？ 〃
In the bottom of my heart there was a devout wish to substitute myself for that fortunate wood…gatherer of seven years old。 The night was resonant with the patter of rain。 The earthen lamp by my bedside was burning low。 My grandmother's voice droned on as she told the story。 And all these things served to create in a corner of my credulous heart the belief that I had been gathering sticks in the dawn of some indefinite time in the kingdom of some unknown king； and in a moment garlands had been exchanged between me and the princess； beautiful as the Goddess of Grace。 She had a gold band on her hair and gold earrings in her ears。 She bad a necklace and bracelets of gold； and a golden waist…chain round her waist； and a pair of golden anklets tinkled above her feet。
If my grandmother were an author how many explanations she would have to offer for this little story！ First of all； every one would ask why the king remained twelve years in the forest？ Secondly； why should the king's daughter remain unmarried all that while？ This would be regarded as absurd。
Even if she could have got so far without a quarrel； still there would have been a great hue and cry about the marriage itself。 First； it never happened。 Secondly； how could there be a marriage between a princess of the Warrior Caste and a boy of the priestly Brahman Caste？ Her readers would have imagined at once that the writer was preaching against our social customs in an underhand way。 And they would write letters to the papers。
So I pray with all my heart that my grandmother may be born a grandmother again； and not through some cursed fate take birth as her luckless grandson。
So with a throb of joy and delight； I asked Grannie： 〃What then？〃
Grannie went on： Then the princess took her little husband away in great distress； and built a large palace with seven wings； and began to cherish her husband with great care。
I jumped up and down in my bed and clutched at the bolster more tightly than ever and said： 〃What then？〃
Grannie continued ： The little boy went to school and learnt many lessons from his teachers； and as he grew up his class…fellows began to ask him： 〃Who is that beautiful lady who lives with you in the palace with the seven wings？ 〃 The Brahman's son was eager to know who she was。 He could only remember how one day he had been gathering sticks； and a great disturbance arose。 But all that was so long ago； that he had no clear recollection。
Four or five years passed in this way。 His companions always asked him： 〃Who is that beautiful lady in the palace with the seven wings？〃 And the Brahman's son would come back from school and sadly tell the princess： 〃My school companions always ask me who is that beautiful lady in the palace with the seven wings； and I can give them no reply。 Tell me； oh； tell me； who you are！〃
The princess said ： 〃Let it pass to…day。 I will tell you some other day。〃 And every day the Brahman's son would ask； 〃Who are you？ 〃 and the princess would reply： 〃Let it pass to…day。 I will tell you some other day。〃 In this manner four or five more years passed away。
At last the Brahman's son became very impatient； and said： 〃If you do not tell me to…day who you are； O beautiful lady； I will leave this palace with the seven wings。〃 Then the princess said： 〃I will certainly tell you to…morrow。〃
Next day the Brahman's son； as soon as he came home from school； said： 〃Now； tell me who you are。〃 The princess said： 〃To…night I will tell you after supper； when you are in bed。〃
The Brahman's son said ： 〃Very well 〃 ； and he began to count the hours in expectation of the night。 And the princess； on her side； spread white flowers over the golden bed； and lighted a gold lamp with fragrant oil； and adorned her hair； and dressed herself in a beautiful robe of blue； and began to count the hours in expectation of the night。
That evening when her husband； the Brahman's son； had finished his meal； too excited almost to eat； and had gone to the golden bed in the bed… chamber strewn with flowers； he said to himself： 〃To…night I shall surely know who this beautiful lady is in the palace with the seven wings。〃
The princess took for her the food that was left over by her husband； and slowly entered the bed…chamber。 She had to answer that night the question； which was the beautiful lady who lived in the palace with the seven wings。 And as she went up to the bed to tell him she found a serpent had crept out of the flowers and had bitten the Brahman's son。 Her boy…husband was lying on the bed of flowers； with face pale in death。
My heart suddenly ceased to throb； and I asked with choking voice： 〃What then？ 〃
Grannie said； 〃Then 。 。 。〃
But what is the use of going on any further with the story？ It would only lead on to what was more and more impossible。 The boy of seven did not know that； if there were some 〃What then？ 〃 after death； no grandmother of a grandmother could tell us all about it。
But the child's faith never admits defeat； and it would snatch at the mantle of death itself to turn him back。 It would be outrageous for him to think that such a story of one teacherless evening could so suddenly come to a stop。 Therefore the grandmother had to call back her story from the ever…shut chamber of the great End； but she does it so simply： it is merely by floating the dead body on a banana stem on the river； and having some incantations read by a magician。 But in that rainy night and in the dim light of a lamp death loses all its horror in the mind of the boy； and seems nothing more than a deep slumber of a single night。 When the story ends the tired eyelids are weighed down with sleep。 Thus it is that we send the little body of the child floating on the back of sleep over the still water of time； and then in the morning read a few verses of incantation to restore him to the world of life and light。
THE HOME…COMING
Phatik Chakravorti was ringleader among the boys of the village。 A new mischief got into his head。 There was a heavy log lying on the mud…flat of the river waiting to be shaped into a mast for a boat。 He decided that they should all work together to shift the log by main force from its place and roll it away。 The owner of the log would be angry and surprised； and they would all enjoy the fun。 Every one seconded the proposal； and it was carried unanimously。
But just as the fun was about to begin； Makhan； Phatik's younger brother； sauntered up； and sat down on the log in front of them all without a word。 The boys were puzzled for a moment。 He was pushed； rather timidly； by one of the boys and told to get up but he remained quite unconcerned。 He appeared like a young philosopher meditating on the futility of games。 Phatik was furious。 〃Makhan；〃 he cried； 〃if you don't get down this minute I'll thrash you！〃
Makhan only moved to a more comfortable position。
Now； if Phatik was to keep his regal dignity before the public； it was clear he ought to carry out his threat。 But his courage failed him at the crisis。 His fertile brain； however； rapidly seized upon a new manoeuvre which would discomfit his brother and afford his followers an added amusement。 He gave the word of command to roll the log and Makhan over together。 Makhan heard the order； and made it a point of honour to stick on。 But he overlooked the fact； like those who attempt earthly fame in other matters； that there was peril in it。
The boys began to heave at the log with all their might； calling out； 〃One； two； three； go；〃 At the word 〃go〃 the log went； and with it went Makhan's philosophy； glory and all。
All the other boys shouted themselves