I

DIVIDED DESTINIES

T was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine, And much I wondered how he lived, and where the beast might dine,

And many many other things, till, o'er my morning smoke,

I slept the sleep of idleness and dreamt that Bandar

spoke.

He said: 'Oh man of many clothes! Sad crawler on the Hills!

Observe, I know not Ranken's shop, nor Ranken's monthly bills!

I take no heed to trousers or the coats that you call dress;

Nor am I plagued with little cards for little drinks at Mess.

'I steal the bunnia's grain at morn, at noon and eventide

(For he is fat and I am spare), I roam the mountain

side,

I follow no man's carriage, and no, never in my life Have I flirted at Peliti's with another Bandar's wife.

'Oh man of futile fopperies-unnecessary wraps; I own no ponies in the hills, I drive no tall-wheeled traps.

I buy me not twelve-button gloves, "short-sixes” eke, or rings,

Nor do I waste at Hamilton's my wealth on "pretty things."

'I quarrel with my wife at home, we never fight abroad; But Mrs. B. has grasped the fact I am her only lord. I never heard of fever-dumps nor debts depress my soul;

And I pity and despise you!' Here he pouched my breakfast-roll.

His hide was very mangy and his face was very red, And ever and anon he scratched with energy his head. His manners were not always nice, but how my spirit cried

To be an artless Bandar loose upon the mountain side!

So I answered:-'Gentle Bandar, an inscrutable Decree Makes thee a gleesome fleasome Thou and me a wretched Me.

Go! Depart in peace, my brother, to thy home amid the pine;

Yet forget not once a mortal wished to change his lot with thine!'

THE MASQUE OF PLENTY

Argument. The Indian Government being minded to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a Committee to enquire into it; and saw that it was good.

S

CENE. The wooded heights of Simla. The Incarnation of the Government of India in the raiment of the Angel of Plenty sings, to pianoforte accompaniment:

'How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life,

From the dawn to the even he strays-
He shall follow his sheep all the day

And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
(adagio dim.) Filled with praise!'
(largendo con sp.) Now this is the position,
Go make an inquisition

Into their real condition

As swiftly as ye may.
(p) Ay, paint our swarthy billions

The richest of vermilions

Ere two well-led cotillions

Have danced themselves away.

Turkish Patrol, as able and intelligent Investigators wind down the Himalayas:

What is the state of the Nation? What is its occupation? Hi! get along, get along, get along,-lend us the infor

mation!

(dim.) Census the byle and the yabu-capture a first

(ff) What is the state of the Nation, etc. etc.

Interlude, from Nowhere in Particular, to stringed and Oriental instruments.

Our cattle reel beneath the yoke they bear—
The earth is iron and the skies are brass-
And faint with fervour of the flaming air
The languid hours pass.

The well is dry beneath the village tree-
The young wheat withers ere it reach a span,
And belts of blinding sand show cruelly
Where once the river ran.

Pray, brothers, pray, but to no earthly King—
Lift up your hands above the blighted grain,
Look westward-if they please, the Gods shall bring
Their mercy with the rain.

Look westward-bears the blue no brown cloud-bank?
Nay, it is written-wherefore should we fly?

On our own field and by our cattle's flank

Lie down, lie down to die!

Semi-Chorus.

By the plumed heads of Kings
Waving high,

Where the tall corn springs

O'er the dead.

If they rust or rot we die,

If they ripen we are fed.

Very mighty is the power of our Kings!

THE MASQUE OF PLENTY

Triumphal return to Simla of the Investigators, attired after the manner of Dionysus, leading a pet tiger-cub in wreaths of rhubarb leaves, symbolical of India under medical treatment. They sing:

We have seen, we have written-behold it, the proof of our manifold toil!

In their hosts they assembled and told it-the tale of the sons of the soil.

We have said of the Sickness-'Where is it?'-and of Death-'It is far from our ken,'

We have paid a particular visit to the affluent children of men.

We have trodden the mart and the well-curb-we have

stooped to the bield and the byre;

And the King may the forces of Hell curb, for the People have all they desire!

Castanets and step dance:

Oh, the dom and the mag and the thakur and the thag, And the nat and the brinjaree,

And the bunnia and the ryot are as happy and as quiet
And as plump as they can be!

Yes, the jain and the jat in his stucco-fronted hut,
And the bounding bazugar,

By the favour of the King, are as fat as anything,
They are they are-they are!

Recitative, Government of India, with white satin wings and electro-plated harp:—

How beautiful upon the mountains-in peace reclining, Thus to be assured that our people are unanimously dining.