EXPERIENCES OF MR. STALE. 
also that there was a dispute going on ; and he distinctly 
heard the boy say, ‘‘You had better go away^ master 
will be in immediately, ” and the reply was, “I can’t 
go in this rain upon which the boy ^teps into the 
back verandah, and removes master’s umbrella, with 
the remark, when he stepped back again, “Master will 
come in all wet, and make no end of bother and trouble 
about drying his clothes/’ Minatchi now came out 
of the kitchen, all enveloped in a red cloth ; her head 
was covered with it and just sufficient space left open 
to shew a pair of beautiful eyes, which, in contrast 
with the scarlet cloth, shone and sparkled like diamonds, 
and a pair of lovely small feet projected from under- 
neath, with the toes quite covered with silver rings, 
and just as she gave the cloth a slight pull up before 
stepping out into the mud, the anklets, with small bells 
attached, tinkled in such a charming way that master was 
now becoming quite interested. As he stood looking 
through the chink in the door, the boy opens up the 
umbrella, extends it well over Minatchi’s head 
and shoulders on the weather side, so well as to 
leave no protection whatever to himself ; but what 
cared he ? the lire in his heart kept him warm. Hia 
shoulders down to his wmist were bare, as also his 
legs; and out they stepped into the rain, the. boy 
sublimely indifferent to the streams of wet that 
trickled down his limbs. “Minatchi, the light of my 
eyes, lire you warm?” “Minatchi, my looking glass, are 
you dry?” In adjusting the umbrella he would bring 
his arm so as to rest gently on and around her 
neck, and as they passed out of sight master stuck both his 
hands into his belt, and had a good hearty laugh. 
When the loving couple reached the lines, Minatchi 
throws off her gay red cloth, and puts on a dry one ; 
she then gets holds of an old dirty one, and says 
“Rengan, my charmer, you are all wet,” and proceeds 
to wisp down his shoulders and legs, until the 
wet is removed and circulation restored ; but it was 
not so much the wispiiig that tended to this result, 
as the whisper ! She then sits down on a small 
wooden stool, just opposite a stick fire, and with 
a piece of hollow bambu blows it up into a flame. 
The boy sits down on hia hind legs, on the other 
side, and they both spread out their hands, close to 
into the flame, and there they sit, enveloped in 
smoke, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears begin to 
run down their duskjy cheeks j can it be their hearts 
are melting? or can it be '’-the smoke ? The boy sud- 
denly starts up, and says, ‘^Minatchi, my wife, your 
hair is wet.” He sits down close behind her, with one band 
takes hold of her long tresses, and lay^ them on the 
pRm of the other, stroKiing them in a most aflf^ctionat© 
