That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

The result of our model house suggestion was that within a year there was not an old house in all the village. Each one was in line, matted, shelved and pictured, and last but not least, judging by the expressive faces and appearance of the women, each house had its looking-glass.

My other villages, seeing what was going on, became extremely jealous, and their committees called on me and asked what they had done to turn the hearts of the sahib and mem sahib away from them—to favor one village and not the others. I was greatly pleased with this sign of life, and after letting them talk a while, as each member of the committee had to tell his story of their regard for me, how anxious they were to please me, and how heartbroken they were to think that I had forgotten them.

I asked what they wanted. Were they willing to build new houses? And they all responded yes, as with one voice. I then promised to do the same for their villages as I had done for the other, when they fairly embraced me, and departed with protestations of love for me and the mem sahib. They had not left her out, for they had probably been well instructed before they left home, as they very politely asked, “And the looking-glasses too, mem sahib?” She responded, with a laugh, “Yes, to every house a looking-glass.” Soon we had a model house in each village, and for days I was occupied in staking out the ground for houses, alleys and yards.

Before another year all the old houses had disappeared, the rubbish removed and everything was spick and span new and clean, a wonderful change compared to the filthy places formerly occupied.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

One evening my wife came into our rest house, from the other villages where the houses were nearly finished, and I saw that she was greatly pleased at something that had occurred. She said that the women had all come to her and almost their only question was about the looking-glasses. She asked, “Suppose there are no looking-glasses in Calcutta, then what am I to do?” Almost a wail of despair went up from the crowd. “O mem sahib, mem sahib! you must not say that, you promised and we know you won’t break your promise.” “All right,” she replied, “I will get you the glasses if I have to go to Wilayat for them,” and they were all as happy as some little girls would be at the promise of dolls from Paris. Bundles of twine, loads of pictures and boxes of looking-glasses were duly given and all were happy for many a day.

The greatest aid to me in making improvements was the village committees, each composed of five men, the majority ruling. For the selection of these committees I had appointed annual election days when all the men over twenty years of age, were each allowed to cast a ballot for the man they wanted. On the morning of the election days the school teachers took their places apart and the men one by one went to them and got a ticket written, of the names they chose. These tickets were folded and the men slipped them into a closed box, a teacher checking the names of the voters in a list that had previously been made. The only collusion possible was with the teachers and they were strictly enjoined not to utter a word of suggestion but only to write the five names given to them. There was probably considerable electioneering beforehand and many an hour’s talk as they smoked their hookas, about the make-up of the new committee. There was considerable excitement over these elections and it increased year by year and made everybody feel that he was somebody, though he was only the village sweeper. There was great interest among the crowd at the close of the polls when the names of the candidates were read off and counted.

The committees thus chosen were clothed with authority and felt their responsibility. They acted with such discretion that I never heard a word of dissent against any action of theirs. This may be accounted for that there were no ranting babu pleaders among them and they had not learned the tricks and bribery of civilized people. They were very deliberate and assumed such a magisterial air and dignity, that could not be excelled by the judges of any High Court, and I do not doubt that their rulings were just as equitable. There was no Court of Appeals though the committees often came to me for advice and suggestions, but I never interfered after they had given their decisions, so that it became a saying amongst the people “The Committee has spoken,” as if nothing further was to be said or done. I had formed a set of rules which the committee executed. They settled all disputes, had charge of the tanks and fishing, looked after the drains and saw that the houses and streets were kept clean and in order. The system was one of self-government, and made the people think and act for themselves.

I had built only one tank near one of the villages. One day not long after the new houses in the other villages had been completed their committees came to me in a body. Their spokesman said that I had been very kind to them, that they did not wish to make any complaint and hoped I would not be angry with them for making another request, but as I had built a tank for one village from which its people had water for their fields and plenty of fish for food, they hoped that I, as their mabap, would also supply them with tanks. I asked if they would give the land. Certainly they would do this as they would make allotments of other fields to those occupying ground where the tanks would be placed. I gave them a favorable answer and received their hearty thanks. The tanks were soon dug, the people of the different villages, coming with their cattle and carts making gala days in helping each other. After the rains the tanks were stocked with fish which in a few years became very plentiful.

The villages were now in a most prosperous condition. I had insisted on their saving all the refuse and the soil became rich. My theory was that the man who impoverishes his land steals from his own pocket. There was an abundance of fuel from the trees that had been planted, so that the manure was not burned as formerly. There was a rotation of crops with different kinds of grain and vegetables. Every third year new seed was imported or got from other parts of India. Grass was grown which with the green stuff was preserved in silos so that there never was any scarcity of fodder. The silos were for the preservation of feed, what the manure pits were for the preservation of manure. The cattle were from imported stock and excellent, quite a contrast with the poor half-starved beasts of the surrounding villages.