her nuts and raisins, but she would not be tempted, and only
hugged herself closer to me. Her doubts about the Kabuliwallah
seemed to have increased.
This was their first meeting.
One morning, however, not many days later, as I was leaving the
house, I was startled to find Mini, seated on a bench near the
door, laughing and talking, with the Kabuliwallah sitting at her
feet. It seemed that my little daughter, in all her entire life had
never found such a patient listener, except for her father. I
observed that the corner of her little sari was already stuffed with
almonds and raisins, the gifts from her visitor.
"Why did you give her those?" I asked Mini, and taking out an
eight-anna coin, I handed it to him. The man accepted the money
without demur, and slipped it into his pocket.
Alas, on my return an hour later, I found the unfortunate coin had
made twice its own worth of trouble! The Kabuliwallah had given
it back to Mini, and her mother catching sight of the bright round
object, had pounced on the child.
"Where did you get that eight-anna bit?" she asked.
"The Kabuliwallah gave it me," said Mini cheerfully.
"The Kabuliwallah gave it you!" cried her mother in a shocked
voice. "Oh! Mini! How could you take it from him?"
I entered at that very moment and saved Mini from an impending
disaster. However I proceeded to make my own inquiries.
I found that that the two had met several times. The Kabuliwallah
had overcome the child's initial terror by a judicious bribery of
nuts and almonds, and the two were now very good friends.
They shared some quaint jokes that gave them a lot of
amusement. Seated in front of him, looking down on his gigantic
frame, Mini’s face would ripple with laughter as she started the
conversation with: "O Kabuliwallah, Kabuliwallah, what have you
got in your bag?"
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