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144 TIMEHRI. 
shall all go. Great feastings, the wailings of pro- 
fessional wailers, and a sumptuous bier borne by many 
willing hands amid a street- long procession marked the 
occasion of the funeral of each. RAMPERSAUD' still 
occupies a considerable share of the corner of the range 
with his family, and though not_rich he is comfortable. _ 
_ Others have been to India and come back shorn and dis- 
illusioned. He resolves wisely that he is at home here, 
and makes the most and best of it accordingly. His 
boys—not the girls—go to school and he indulges in 
great ambitions for them. They bring home and impart 
impressions and thoughts which sap the life out of all his 
old beliefs, and he sees them becoming Anglicised and 
developed into manly stalwart fellows as much beyond 
himself as he was beyond his father. His father, LUCH- 
MAN, never spoke of SOFEE except by such a title as 
** RAMPERSAUD’S mother,” or “ my boy’s mother,” buy 
RAMPERSAUD has been laughed and chaffed out of this by 
his boys. When his own little girl died his heart was 
too sore to have the feast and wailings, and although he 
was and is not a Christian, it gave him a world of satis- 
fa€tion and comfort when the buckra clergyman allowed 
him to lay ber quietly to rest under the tree in the church- 
yard corner. He has got more and more out of touch 
with his country “ parsons” and their lies and deceits, 
but he does not know quite what to make of it all. He 
is the link between two orders, the old and effete andthe 
new, the vigorous, manly, free, and self-reliant. The 
day of life like the natural day wanes at last, and RAM- 
PERSAUD, surrounded by his boys and girls, listening as 
he hears his sons’ wives hushing their little mites, whose 
tiny voices are music to his old ears, feels himself going 
