That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

I had quite a tussle with my friends on the milk and cow question. It was formerly the custom for them to let the calves run with the cows and no milk was procured. I insisted that the calves should not be allowed to go to their mothers even for a day after their births. The people said this was not the custom with their forefathers, that it was not possible, the cows would not give milk or allow themselves to be milked unless the calves were present. There was very near a rebellion. After reflection the committees quieted the rest, by saying that the sahib knew everything and should have his own way, which he had, with the result that the cows became as good milkers as on any dairy farm in Europe.

It was the custom when a calf died to stuff its skin with grass and every time the cow was milked this imitation calf was placed beside her.

I learned indirectly that I was extolled as a wonderful sahib, that I not only knew how to make lightning with a machine, but all about cows and how to make butter. I had thoroughly studied this latter subject during my foreign trip as well as about silos.

There was plenty of fruit from the trees that had been planted. The committee passed a rule that those appointed to gather the fruit should bring it to the Chibutra where at evening it was counted or weighed by the committee and each family given its portion.

The new houses were abodes of neatness, health and comfort, and each family took pride in keeping everything in good order. My wife instructed the women in various industries, among them making articles to adorn their houses and themselves, so that they were most willing to accede to her wishes. She gave them flower seeds and every house had its pots of flowers. The women instead of idling, were very busy in their household duties or carrying water for their flowers. The people from the surrounding country for miles came to see my villages as to a fair. It was something strange for them to see common natives enjoying so much health, comfort and pleasure and their admiration was a stimulant to the people.

I could but pity those around them living in poverty, squalor and filth, with constant sickness, whilst their landlords lived in cities, grasping everything they could from their miserable half-starved ryots.

There were several things from the absence of which we were blessed. There was not an accursed opium den, liquor shop or money-lender within our boundary, and I might add no oppressive, grasping zemindar. I had prevented these evils from the first and the committees insisted that no one should use opium or liquor; that no one should borrow money outside of their own circles, and passed a usury law that no one should charge more interest than six per cent per annum on pain of forfeiture of the amount loaned, so that these village committees, unlettered heathen, were considerably in advance of the great Government of India, that next to the twin curses of opium and liquor, fosters the other curse, the robbing of the poor by tolerating the incredible percentage of the money-lenders.

The Collector of the district in his cold weather tour, once encamped not far from one of the villages. The committee concluded to make up a present for the Barra Sahib. They collected vegetables, fruit, flowers, fish, milk and butter, quite a cart load. When well dressed they appeared before him, to his surprise and astonishment, as he afterwards told me, for he could not have got as good supplies from his own house and garden. This reception greatly pleased them, and he promised to pay them a visit on the following morning. Bright and early every one was at work. The clean streets were sprinkled, and all put on their gayest apparel. Nearly all went to the boundary to meet him, and followed him in procession with the village band in the lead. This band was quite a feature at our evening assemblies, melas and fairs. The instruments were all native, and the music was not such as is heard in the Grand Opera House in Paris, but it suited the people, so what more could be asked? The Collector was completely taken aback at the sight, and still more astonished when he saw the well built houses, every veranda adorned with flowers and the clean sprinkled streets. They escorted him to the Chibutra under the big tree, when he told them how pleased he was, and thanked them for the presents they had sent. The women were particularly happy when he complimented them on their appearance, the neatness of their houses, the beauty and variety of the flowers on their verandas. I was not aware of his going near the village, or I would have been present, but I was glad that the people had acted of their own accord and pleasure.

I have great faith in nature, that if man was not distorted by beliefs, traditions, customs, education and society, he would be as virtuous, honest and good as other animals; but that is another subject.

The committee sent me word of the Collector Sahib’s presence, so I went out to show him due respect as a loyal zemindar. The committee had a reason for my coming. The collector’s servants and camp followers had raided the gardens, fields and fruit trees, taking what they chose and refusing payment, as usual with them. Besides, some of them had nets and were catching loads of fish of all sizes. To excuse themselves they said they were the Barra Sahib’s servants, and wherever they went they took what they wanted and paid nothing. This was the truth, but did not make their robbery and insolence any more palatable to my people. On hearing this I told the committee to come with me to call on the sahib. I had not met him, as he was a new arrival in the station, and had not called on me for the probable reason that the cantonment magistrate—somewhat of a cad, always in debt to his servants and shop-keepers, having a lot of gambling IOU’s against him in the club at the end of every month—had dropped my name from the calling list which was in his charge, giving as a reason to some one that newcomers might not care to become acquainted with Eurasians. But then he was the second generation from a London tailor, and as some society expert has observed that it takes seven generations to make a gentleman, he was only two-sevenths of one, so no matter.