"I will make him a horse to play with," and Chola seated himself and began to mould the clay as he had seen the old potter do. "I shall make a buffalo like the sacred one that stole the sweets yesterday," said Nao, falling to work. "Tush! this only sticks to my fingers!" exclaimed Mahala, impatiently, after a few minutes' work. "Give it to me and let me try," said Shriya, eagerly. "Thou canst take it; and a good riddance, too," and Mahala held out a pair of dirty hands. "There!" cried Chola, "here is thy horse, little one; but wait, I must put a saddle on him," he said, as the baby crowed and put out his hands. "A horse, indeed," laughed Mahala; "it looks as much like a horse as Nao's buffalo." "I couldn't make the horns stick on mine," grumbled Nao. "And thou hast forgotten thy buffalo's tail, too!" Chola laughed, heartily. "But, look," he continued, "Shriya's are the best of all." Shriya's nimble little fingers had indeed made the two little dolls which she had moulded look very lifelike. "I shall put a bit of real cloth on their heads for veils," she said. "We will put them here in the sun to dry," said Chola, admiring his horse as he held it up. "Ah, and if we leave them here, perhaps 'Sir Banas' will come to the garden to-night and make them all alive," whispered little Shriya, mysteriously. The children believed that there was a strange being who came during the night and made their dolls walk and talk as if they were alive. Later on all the family went to the big square near by, where games were going on; and everybody took a ride on the big "merry-go-round," which was very much like the ones we have. Shriya's father put her up into one of the swinging seats, all red and gold, and took his seat in another, for the grown people were as fond of riding in a merry-go-round as the children. The boys were already holding on tight, each in one of the funny little swings; and away they went, the long ends of their turbans flying behind them, until they were too dizzy to see. But this is the fun of a merry-go-round the world over. Then they went home merrily in the warm, dusky twilight, very happy, with their hands and mouths sticky with sweetmeats. One evening, not long after this, as Chola and Mahala came home from school, Shriya met them at the garden gate with a very solemn face. "See," she whispered to Chola, "the priest from the temple sits there talking with thy father. He says the only way to make thy little brother well is to take him to Benares, that he may be bathed in the holy river."