Hair Cutting

Back to her now recovering husband went Mimosa and continued her faithful nursing. His hair had not been cut for a year, or dressed in any way, or once combed; for he would have felt a drop of oil or the touch of a comb as dangerous as water, which, as all know, is deadly in any kind of illness. Mats of it lay about him in tangled heaps. But at last he was willing to have it cut.

But who would cut it? The barber was called and was afraid. It is unlucky to cut such hair. Mimosa took the scissors. “I will cut it. Let the ill-luck be on me!” MHer fingers were blistered before she had finished, but at last all was cut and carefully deposited on the dust-heap. To burn it would have been too dangerous; the neighbours would have interfered. As it was, they were shocked. ‘“What a wife!” they said, and turned up the palms of their hands at her.

But the barber did not mind, for he did not lose his fee; Mimosa gave it to him just as if he had done his work, a whole precious rupee. Are there any givers so generous as the very poor?