is well known that
the words _father-in-law's house_ have a double meaning. It is a
euphemism for _jail_, the place where we are well cared for, at no
expense to ourselves. In this sense would the sturdy pedlar take my
daughter's question. "Ah," he would say, shaking his fist at an
invisible policeman, "I will thrash my father-in-law!" Hearing this, and
picturing the poor discomfited relative, Mini would go off into peals
of laughter, in which her formidable friend would join.

These were autumn mornings, the very time of year when kings of old went
forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in
Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world. At the very
name of another country, my heart would go out to it, and at the sight
of a foreigner in the streets, I would fall to weaving a network of
dreams,--the mountains, the glens, and the forests of his distant home,
with his cottage in its setting, and the free and independent life of
far-away wilds. Perhaps the scenes of travel conjure themselves up
before me and pass and repass in my imagination all the more vividly,
because I lead such a vegetable existence that a call to travel would
fall upon me like a thunder-bolt. In the presence of this Cabuliwallah I
was immediately transported to the foot of arid mountain peaks, with
narrow little defiles twisting in and out amongst their towering
heights. I could see the string of camels bearing the merchandise, and
the company of turbanned merchants carrying some their queer old
firearms, and some their spears, journeying downward towards the plains.
I could see--. But at some such point Mini's mother would intervene,
imploring me to "beware of that man."

Mini's mother is unfortunately a very timid lady. Whenever she hears a
noise in the street, or sees people coming towards the house, she always
jumps to the conclusion that they are either thieves, or drunkards, or
snakes, or tigers, or malaria, or cockroaches, or caterpillars. Even
after all these years of experience, she is not able to overcome her
terror. So she was full of doubts about the Cabuliwallah, and used to
beg me to keep a watchful eye on him.

I tried to laugh her fear gently away, but then she would turn round on
me seriously, and ask me solemn questions:--

Were children never kidnapped?

Was it, then, not true that there was slavery in Cabul?

Was it so very absurd that this big man should be able to carry off a
tiny child?