P., with
the fresh appreciation of a newcomer.
Orde, loth to be interrupted, turned impatiently toward the
villagers, and their leader, handing his long staff to one of his
companions, advanced to the house.
"It is old Jelbo, the Lumherdar, or head-man of Pind Sharkot, and a
very' intelligent man for a villager."
The Jat farmer had removed his shoes and stood smiling on the
edge of the veranda. His strongly marked features glowed with
russet bronze, and his bright eyes gleamed under deeply set brows,
contracted by lifelong exposure to sunshine. His beard and
moustache streaked with grey swept from bold cliffs of brow and
cheek in the large sweeps one sees drawn by Michael Angelo, and
strands of long black hair mingled with the irregularly piled
wreaths and folds of his turban. The drapery of stout blue cotton
cloth thrown over his broad shoulders and girt round his narrow
loins, hung from his tall form in broadly sculptured folds, and he
would have made a superb model for an artist in search of a
patriarch.
Orde greeted him cordially, and after a polite pause the
countryman started off with a long story told with impressive
earnestness. Orde listened and smiled, interrupting the speaker
at 'times to argue and reason with him in a tone which Pagett could
hear was kindly, and finally checking the flux of words was about
to dismiss him, when Pagett suggested that he should be asked
about the National Congress.
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