AMAL. How I wish I were a bird! Then--
GAFFER. But that would have been a bit of a job; I hear you've
fixed up with the dairyman to be a hawker of curds when you grow
up; I'm afraid such business won't flourish among birds; you
might land yourself into serious loss.
MADHAV. Really this is too much. Between you two I shall turn
crazy. Now, I'm off.
AMAL. Has the dairyman been, Uncle?
MADHAV. And why shouldn't he? He won't bother his head running
errands for your pet fakir, in and out among the nests in his
Parrots' Isle. But he has left a jar of curd for you saying that
he is rather busy with his niece's wedding in the village, and he
has got to order a band at Kamlipara.
AMAL. But he is going to marry me to his little niece.
GAFFER. Dear me, we are in a fix now.
AMAL. He said she would find me a lovely little bride with a
pair of pearl drops in her ears and dressed in a lovely red
s?ree; and in the morning she would milk with her own hands the
black cow and feed me with warm milk with foam on it from a brand
new earthen cruse; and in the evenings she would carry the lamp
round the cow-house, and then come and sit by me to tell me tales
of Champa and his six brothers.
[Transcriber's note: In act 1, Amal mentions to Sudha about Champa
and his seven brothers.
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