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。