Attheendofone’sthirdpipethedragonsusedtomoveaboutandfightI’vewatched’em，manyandmanyanightthroughIusedtoregulatemySmokethatway，andnowittakesadozenpipestomake’emstirBesides，theyarealltornanddirty，likethemats，andoldFung-TchingisdeadHediedacoupleofyearsago，andgavemethepipeIalwaysusenow——asilverone，withqueerbeastscrawlingupanddownthereceiver-bottlebelowthecupBeforethat，I
think，Iusedabigbamboostemwithacoppercup，averysmallone，andagreenjademouthpieceItwasalittlethickerthanawalking-stickstem，andsmokedsweet，verysweetThebambooseemedtosuckupthesmokeSilverdoesn’t，andI’vegottocleanitoutnowandthen，that’sagreatdealoftrouble，butIsmokeitfortheoldman’ssakeHemusthavemadeagoodthingoutofme，buthealwaysgavemecleanmatsandpillows，andthebeststuffyoucouldgetanywhere。
Whenhedied，hisnephewTsin-lingtookuptheGate，andhecalleditthe“TempleoftheThreePossessions；“butweoldonesspeakofitasthe“HundredSorrows。”allthesameThenephewdoesthingsveryshabbily，andIthinktheMemsahibmusthelphimSheliveswithhim；sameassheusedtodowiththeoldmanThetwoletinallsortsoflowpeople，niggersandall，andtheBlackSmokeisn’tasgoodasitusedtobeI’vefoundburntbraninmypipeoverandoveragainTheoldmanwouldhavediedifthathadhappenedinhistimeBesides，theroomisnevercleaned，andallthematsaretornandcutattheedgesThecoffinhasgone——gonetoChinaagain——
withtheoldmanandtwoouncesofsmokeinsideit，incaseheshouldwant’emontheway。
TheJossdoesn’tgetsomanysticksburntunderhisnoseasheusedto；that’sasignofill-luck，assureasDeathHe’sallbrown，too，andnooneeverattendstohimThat’stheMemsahib’swork，I
know；because，whenTsin-lingtriedtoburngiltpaperbeforehim，shesaiditwasawasteofmoney，and，ifhekeptastickburningveryslowly，theJosswouldn’tknowthedifferenceSonowwe’vegotthesticksmixedwithalotofglue，andtheytakehalf-an-hourlongertoburn，andsmellstinkyLetalonethesmelloftheroombyitselfNobusinesscangetoniftheytrythatsortofthing。
TheJossdoesn’tlikeitIcanseethatLateatnight，sometimes，heturnsallsortsofqueercolors——blueandgreenandred——justasheusedtodowhenoldFung-Tchingwasalive；andherollshiseyesandstampshisfeetlikeadevil。
Idon’tknowwhyIdon’tleavetheplaceandsmokequietlyinalittleroomofmyowninthebazarMostlike，Tsin-lingwouldkillmeifIwentaway——hedrawsmysixtyrupeesnow——andbesides，it’ssomuchtrouble，andI’vegrowntobeveryfondoftheGateIt’snotmuchtolookatNotwhatitwasintheoldman’stime，butI
couldn’tleaveitI’veseensomanycomeinandoutAndI’veseensomanydiehereonthematsthatIshouldbeafraidofdyingintheopennowI’veseensomethingsthatpeoplewouldcallstrangeenough；butnothingisstrangewhenyou’reontheBlackSmoke，excepttheBlackSmokeAndifitwas，itwouldn’tmatter。
Fung-Tchingusedtobeveryparticularabouthispeople，andnevergotinanyonewho’dgivetroublebydyingmessyandsuchButthenephewisn’thalfsocarefulHetellseverywherethathekeepsa“first-chop“houseNevertriestogetmeninquietly，andmakethemcomfortablelikeFung-TchingdidThat’swhytheGateisgettingalittlebitmoreknownthanitusedtobeAmongtheniggersofcourseThenephewdaren’tgetawhite，or，formatterofthat，amixedskinintotheplaceHehastokeepusthreeofcourse——meandtheMemsahibandtheotherEurasianWe’refixtures。
Buthewouldn’tgiveuscreditforapipeful——notforanything。
Oneofthesedays，Ihope，IshalldieintheGateThePersianandtheMadrasmanareterribleshakynowThey’vegotaboytolighttheirpipesforthemIalwaysdothatmyselfMostlike，IshallseethemcarriedoutbeforemeIdon’tthinkIshalleveroutlivetheMemsahiborTsin-lingWomenlastlongerthanmenattheBlack-
Smoke，andTsin-linghasadealoftheoldman’sbloodinhim，thoughheDOESsmokecheapstuffThebazar-womanknewwhenshewasgoingtwodaysbeforehertime；andSHEdiedonacleanmatwithanicelywaddedpillow，andtheoldmanhungupherpipejustabovetheJossHewasalwaysfondofher，IfancyButhetookherbanglesjustthesame。
Ishouldliketodielikethebazar-woman——onaclean，coolmatwithapipeofgoodstuffbetweenmylipsWhenIfeelI’mgoing，I
shallaskTsin-lingforthem，andhecandrawmysixtyrupeesamonth，freshandfresh，aslongashepleases，andwatchtheblackandreddragonshavetheirlastbigfighttogether；andthen。
Well，itdoesn’tmatterNothingmattersmuchtome——onlyI
wishedTsin-lingwouldn’tputbranintotheBlackSmoke。
THESTORYOFMUHAMMADDIN。
“Whoisthehappyman？Hethatseesinhisownhouseathomelittlechildrencrownedwithdust，leapingandfallingandcrying。”
Munichandra，translatedbyProfessorPeterson。
Thepolo-ballwasanoldone，scarred，chipped，anddintedItstoodonthemantelpieceamongthepipe-stemswhichImamDin，khitmatgar，wascleaningforme。
“DoestheHeaven-bornwantthisball？”saidImamDin，deferentially。
TheHeaven-bornsetnoparticularstorebyit；butofwhatusewasapolo-balltoakhitmatgar？
“ByYourHonor’sfavor，IhavealittlesonHehasseenthisball，anddesiresittoplaywithIdonotwantitformyself。”
NoonewouldforaninstantaccuseportlyoldImamDinofwantingtoplaywithpolo-ballsHecarriedoutthebatteredthingintotheverandah；andtherefollowedahurricaneofjoyfulsqueaks，apatterofsmallfeet，andthethud-thud-thudoftheballrollingalongthegroundEvidentlythelittlesonhadbeenwaitingoutsidethedoortosecurehistreasureButhowhadhemanagedtoseethatpolo-
ball？
Nextday，comingbackfromofficehalfanhourearlierthanusual，I
wasawareofasmallfigureinthedining-room——atiny，plumpfigureinaridiculouslyinadequateshirtwhichcame，perhaps，half-waydownthetubbystomachItwanderedroundtheroom，thumbinmouth，crooningtoitselfasittookstockofthepicturesUndoubtedlythiswasthe“littleson。”
Hehadnobusinessinmyroom，ofcourse；butwassodeeplyabsorbedinhisdiscoveriesthathenevernoticedmeinthedoorwayI
steppedintotheroomandstartledhimnearlyintoafitHesatdownonthegroundwithagaspHiseyesopened，andhismouthfollowedsuitIknewwhatwascoming，andfled，followedbyalong，dryhowlwhichreachedtheservants’quartersfarmorequicklythananycommandofminehadeverdoneIntensecondsImamDinwasinthedining-roomThendespairingsobsarose，andIreturnedtofindImamDinadmonishingthesmallsinnerwhowasusingmostofhisshirtasahandkerchief。
“Thisboy。”saidImamDin，judicially，“isabudmash，abigbudmash。
Hewill，withoutdoubt，gotothejail-khanaforhisbehavior。”
Renewedyellsfromthepenitent，andanelaborateapologytomyselffromImamDin。
“Tellthebaby。”saidI，“thattheSahibisnotangry，andtakehimaway。”ImamDinconveyedmyforgivenesstotheoffender，whohadnowgatheredallhisshirtroundhisneck，string-wise，andtheyellsubsidedintoasobThetwosetoffforthedoor“Hisname。”
saidImamDin，asthoughthenamewerepartofthecrime，“isMuhammadDin，andheisabudmash。”Freedfrompresentdanger，MuhammadDinturnedround，inhisfather’sarms，andsaidgravely：——
“ItistruethatmynameisMuhammadDin，Tahib，butIamnotabudmashIamaMAN！”
FromthatdaydatedmyacquaintancewithMuhammadDin。
Neveragaindidhecomeintomydining-room，butontheneutralgroundofthecompound，wegreetedeachotherwithmuchstate，thoughourconversationwasconfinedto“Talaam，Tahib“fromhissideand“SalaamMuhammadDin“frommineDailyonmyreturnfromoffice，thelittlewhiteshirt，andthefatlittlebodyusedtorisefromtheshadeofthecreeper-coveredtrelliswheretheyhadbeenhid；
anddailyIcheckedmyhorsehere，thatmysalutationmightnotbeslurredoverorgivenunseemly。
MuhammadDinneverhadanycompanionsHeusedtotrotaboutthecompound，inandoutofthecastor-oilbushes，onmysteriouserrandsofhisownOnedayIstumbleduponsomeofhishandiworkfardownthegroundHehadhalfburiedthepolo-ballindust，andstucksixshrivelledoldmarigoldflowersinacirclerounditOutsidethatcircleagain，wasarudesquare，tracedoutinbitsofredbrickalternatingwithfragmentsofbrokenchina；thewholeboundedbyalittlebankofdustThebhistiefromthewell-curbputinapleaforthesmallarchitect，sayingthatitwasonlytheplayofababyanddidnotmuchdisfiguremygarden。
HeavenknowsthatIhadnointentionoftouchingthechild’sworkthenorlater；but，thatevening，astrollthroughthegardenbroughtmeunawaresfullonit；sothatItrampled，beforeIknew，marigold-heads，dust-bank，andfragmentsofbrokensoap-dishintoconfusionpastallhopeofmendingNextmorningIcameuponMuhammadDincryingsoftlytohimselfovertheruinIhadwrought。
SomeonehadcruellytoldhimthattheSahibwasveryangrywithhimforspoilingthegarden，andhadscatteredhisrubbishusingbadlanguagethewhileMuhammadDinlaboredforanhourateffacingeverytraceofthedust-bankandpotteryfragments，anditwaswithatearfulapologeticfacethathesaid，“TalaamTahib。”whenI
camehomefromtheofficeAhastyinquiryresultedinImamDininformingMuhammadDinthatbymysingularfavorhewaspermittedtodisporthimselfashepleasedWhereatthechildtookheartandfelltotracingtheground-planofanedificewhichwastoeclipsethemarigold-polo-ballcreation。
Forsomemonths，thechubbylittleeccentricityrevolvedinhishumbleorbitamongthecastor-oilbushesandinthedust；alwaysfashioningmagnificentpalacesfromstaleflowersthrownawaybythebearer，smoothwater-wornpebbles，bitsofbrokenglass，andfeatherspulled，Ifancy，frommyfowls——alwaysaloneandalwayscrooningtohimself。
Agayly-spottedsea-shellwasdroppedonedayclosetothelastofhislittlebuildings；andIlookedthatMuhammadDinshouldbuildsomethingmorethanordinarilysplendidonthestrengthofitNorwasIdisappointedHemeditatedforthebetterpartofanhour，andhiscrooningrosetoajubilantsongThenhebegantracingindustItwouldcertainlybeawondrouspalace，thisone，foritwastwoyardslongandayardbroadinground-planButthepalacewasnevercompleted。
NextdaytherewasnoMuhammadDinattheheadofthecarriage-
drive，andno“TalaamTahib“towelcomemyreturnIhadgrownaccustomedtothegreeting，anditsomissiontroubledmeNextday，ImamDintoldmethatthechildwassufferingslightlyfromfeverandneededquinineHegotthemedicine，andanEnglishDoctor。
“Theyhavenostamina，thesebrats。”saidtheDoctor，asheleftImamDin’squarters。
Aweeklater，thoughIwouldhavegivenmuchtohaveavoidedit，I
metontheroadtotheMussulmanburying-groundImamDin，accompaniedbyoneotherfriend，carryinginhisarms，wrappedinawhitecloth，allthatwasleftoflittleMuhammadDin。
ONTHESTRENGTHOFALIKENESS。
Ifyourmirrorbebroken，lookintostillwater；buthaveacarethatyoudonotfallin。
HinduProverb。
Nexttoarequitedattachment，oneofthemostconvenientthingsthatayoungmancancarryaboutwithhimatthebeginningofhiscareer，isanunrequitedattachmentItmakeshimfeelimportantandbusiness-like，andblase，andcynical；andwheneverhehasatouchofliver，orsuffersfromwantofexercise，hecanmournoverhislostlove，andbeveryhappyinatender，twilightfashion。
Hannasyde’saffairofthehearthadbeenaGodsendtohimItwasfouryearsold，andthegirlhadlongsincegivenupthinkingofit。
ShehadmarriedandhadmanycaresofherownInthebeginning，shehadtoldHannasydethat，“whileshecouldneverbeanythingmorethanasistertohim，shewouldalwaystakethedeepestinterestinhiswelfare。”ThisstartlinglynewandoriginalremarkgaveHannasydesomethingtothinkoverfortwoyears；andhisownvanityfilledintheothertwenty-fourmonthsHannasydewasquitedifferentfromPhilGarron，but，nonetheless，hadseveralpointsincommonwiththatfartooluckyman。