The days ran into each other, as Devdas and Paru played and fished and roamed the countryside. Sometimes, when they came home dirty and torn, they were scolded severely, but for the most part they led a life of unfettered freedom. One day they went fishing , and caught fifteen little fish, but Paru was so muddy and wet when she returned that she was sent to her room for the rest of the day. She sulked angrily in a corner of the room, refusing to answer even when Devdas came and called from under her window. But her anger only lasted the day. The next morning she waited eagerly for Devdas, but he did not come. He had gone visiting with his father to a neighboring village. Paru grew bored and restless. All the nearby children were at school. She decided to visit her friend Monoroma whom she had not seen for a while. Monoroma lived further away than most of the children that Paru knew, it took Paru a while to get to her house. Monoroma’s aunt answered the door.

“Why, Paru isn’t it?’

“Yes, auntie, where’s Mono ?”

“She’s in school. Don’t you go to school, Paru?”

“No, auntie, I don't and neither does Devda.” Monoroma’s aunt smiled kindly.

“Would like to come in, Paru?”

“No, auntie, I’ll be going now.”

Paru wandered off to Roshik Pal’s store. Almost there, she saw three Vaishnovi singers, cymbals in hand, walking down the road. She hurried to catch up with them.

“Vaishnovi! Can you sing?”

The three stopped to look at her.

“Of course we can sing, child.”

“Then sing for me, do!”

The Vaisnovis exchanged glances, then one spoke.

“We cannot sing without alms, child, but if you wish we will come to your house and sing for your family.”

“I want you to sing for me now, and I have alms. See.”

and Paru showed them a piece of silver. Yesterday, while they were fishing, Devdas had given Paru three rupees to keep safe for him. She had tied them in a not in her scarf;

“Is that your money, child?”

“It’s Devda’s.”

“And will he not punish you for giving it away?”

Paru shook her head firmly. “No, he will not.”

Then the three intertwined their voices and beat time with their cymbals, and sang songs of love and devotion. Paru could not understand most of the words, but the harmony caught her heart and lifted it up and away. When they finally stopped, Paru gave them all the money in her scarf, three silver rupees. They were amazed and overjoyed at this largesse.

“Do you mean to give us so much, mother?”

“Yes, I have three coins, and there are three of you, so it comes out just right, see?”

Blessing her heartily, the three Vaishnovis continued on their way.

The next morning Devdas was calling for Paru as usual.

“Let’s go into town. I mean to get kites at the market, the old ones are broken. Do you have the money I gave you?”

Paru turned pale.

“No.”

“No? What happened?”

“I gave them to three Vaisnovis who sang for me.”

“All three rupees? you idiot! That was too much!”

“But there were three of them. How could they divide it if I didn’t give them three rupees?”

“I would have given them two rupees. Then they would have got ten annas, thirteen gonds and one kora each!”

Paru said thoughtfully, “But could they have worked out a difficult sum the way you did?”

Devdas pondered. No, those poor Vaisnaovis could never have coped with such a difficult calculation. He, Devdas, knew long division. He felt superior in his knowledge.

Paru said,”They thought you might punish me.”

Devdas stared “For what, idiot?”

“For giving them the money.”

Devdas laughed uproariously. “Of course I won’t punish you, idiot! Come on, let’s get to the market.”