Old Deccan Days.
I.
PUNCHKIN.
ONCE upon a time there was a Rajah[25] who had seven beautiful daughters. They were all good girls; but the youngest, named Balna,[26] was more clever than the rest. The Rajah’s wife died when they were quite little children, so these seven poor Princesses were left with no mother to take care of them.
The Rajah’s daughters took it by turns to cook their father’s dinner every day,[27] whilst he was absent deliberating with his ministers on the affairs of the nation.
About this time the Purdan[28] died, leaving a widow and one daughter; and every day, every day, when the seven Princesses were preparing their father’s dinner, the Purdan’s widow and daughter would come and beg for a little fire from the hearth. Then Balna used to say to her sisters, “Send that woman away; send her away. Let her get the fire at her own house. What does she want with ours? If we allow her to come here, we shall suffer for it some day.” But the other sisters would answer, “Be quiet, Balna; why must you always be quarreling with this poor woman? Let her take some fire if she likes.” Then the Purdan’s widow used to go to the hearth and take a few sticks from it; and, whilst no one was looking, she would quickly throw some mud into the midst of the dishes which were being prepared for the Rajah’s dinner.
Now the Rajah was very fond of his daughters. Ever since their mother’s death they had cooked his dinner with their own hands, in order to avoid the danger of his being poisoned by his enemies. So, when he found the mud mixed up with his dinner, he thought it must arise from their carelessness, as it appeared improbable that any one should have put mud there on purpose; but being very kind, he did not like to reprove them for it, although this spoiling of the currie was repeated many successive days.
At last, one day, he determined to hide and watch his daughters cooking, and see how it all happened; so he went into the next room, and watched them through a hole in the wall.