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THE WRECK

Kamala went to the door and, scratching his head, Umesh announced, "Mother, Sidhu Babu's people have brought up a troupe of actors from Calcutta for their daughter's wedding."

"All right, Umesh, you can go and see the per- formance."

Umesh. "What kind of flowers shall I bring you in the morning?" Kamala. "Never mind about any flowers."

He was going away when Kamala suddenly called him back. "Wait, Umesh, as you're going to the play here's five rupees for you."

Umesh, was taken aback; no charge for admission was made at such entertainments. "Do you want me to buy you something in town, mother?" he asked.

Kamala. "No, I don't want anything. Take the money and it'll come in handy for something."

Umesh was going off in bewilderment when Kamala called him back again. "What will people say if they see you at the performance in those clothes?" she asked.

Umesh had never imagined that people expected much from him in the way of dress or that a de- ficiency in that respect would make him the subject of criticism. He was quite indifferent to the absence of elegance in his waistcloth and his complete lack of any other garment, so Kamala's query only brought a grin to his countenance.

"Here, take these and put them on." Kamala pulled out a couple of her own dresses and threw them to Umesh. Being oblong sheets, these garments served equally well for masculine and for feminine attire according to the method of folding, and they had broad ornamental borders which vastly delighted Umesh. He fell at Kamala's feet in a clumsy obeisance then picked up the dresses and departed, con-

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