. . . But that is another story.
For many reasons, to be explained later, the people concerned objected to the
Bill. The Native Member in Council knew as much about Punjabis as he knew
about Charing Cross. He had said in Calcutta that "the Bill was entirely in
accord with the desires of that large and important class, the cultivators;"
and so on, and so on. The Legal Member's knowledge of natives was limited to
English-speaking Durbaris, and his own red chaprassis, the Sub-Montane Tracts
concerned no one in particular, the Deputy Commissioners were a good deal too
driven to make representations, and the measure was one which dealt with small
landholders only. Nevertheless, the Legal Member prayed that it might be
correct, for he was a nervously conscientious man. He did not know that no man
can tell what natives think unless he mixes with them with the varnish off.
And not always then. But he did the best he knew. And the measure came up to
the Supreme Council for the final touches, while Tods patrolled the Burra
Simla Bazar in his morning rides, and played with the monkey belonging to
Ditta Mull, the bunnia, and listened, as a child listens to all the stray talk
about this new freak of the Lat Sahib's.
One day there was a dinner-party, at the house of Tods' Mamma, and the Legal
Member came.
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