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Updated: May 7, 2025


Great was her joy when Mrs Leigh after scolding him in the kindest way over the girl mother and two more starving children, picked up afterwards had given her leave to take special charge of them and lodged them with the dhobi's wife. This also brought her nearer to Roy. And what could she ask more? But with the approach of the Dewáli, thoughts of the future came flocking like birds at sundown.

Only four other guests; Dr Ethel Wemyss, M.B., lively and clever and new to the country; Major and Mrs Garten of the Sikhs, with a stolid good-humoured daughter, who unfailingly wore the same frock and the same disarming smile. The Deputy Commissioner's wife permitted herself few military intimates. But she had come in touch with Mrs Garten over a dhobi's chit and a recipe for pumelo gin.

You false-'earted proletarian publicist," he says, shakin' his finger at 'im for he was reelly annoyed "I'll teach you to defile what you can't comprebend! When my regiment's in a state o' mutiny, I'll do myself the honour of informing you personally. You particularly ignorant and very narsty little man," he says, "you're no better than a dhobi's donkey!

Then he said, "I know what I'll do, I'll fetch Little Black Mingo's big chatty and cover my eggs with that, then the Mongoose won't be able to get at them." So he swam across to the shore, and fetched the dhobi's big chatty, and covered the eggs with it. "Now, you wicked little Mongoose, come and eat my eggs if you can," said he, and he went off quite proud and happy.

To see this bird it is necessary to repair to some mountain stream. It is always in evidence in the neighbourhood of the dhobi's ghat at Naini Tal, and is particularly abundant on the banks of the Kosi river round about Khairna. At first sight the Himalayan whistling-thrush looks very like a cock blackbird. His yellow bill adds to the similitude.

I was in a small vaulted chamber, bound to a wooden bench, surrounded by the zemindar's soldiers, and powerless except to scream out in the agony of each blow. Thirty strokes were counted, and then I was flung out of the gates of the castle, to limp my way home. "Tears of self-pity were in the dhobi's eyes as he recounted his tale of woe.

So Little Black Mingo took the dhobi's great big chatty, and started again to go to the river. But first she went to a little bank above the river, and peeped up and down, to see if she could see the old Mugger anywhere. But she could not see him, for he was hiding under the very bank she was standing on, and though his tail stuck out a little she never saw him at all.

The dhobi's time of trial is the rainy season, when he pursues his trade under great difficulties. The modest stream of clear water, so well suited to his purpose, has developed into a rolling river of muddy water. His smooth stones, his gravelly shoals, the banks of green grass, are now buried deep in a foaming torrent. The air is laden with moisture, and violent rain falls repeatedly.

In a country where integrity in matters of trade is rare, it is not to be expected that the dhobi's standard of honesty will be higher than that of other people, and the nature of his employment gives facilities for petty dishonesty: such as exchanging old handkerchiefs for new, or not bringing back the same number of garments as he took away.

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