Achmed Abdullah

“ Thy countryman, the Babu Bansi, came to him with the same message ...”
“Bansi is a liar! He is a ...”
“Thou shouldst hear what he says about thee!” chuckled the nurse.
“Never mind,” the princess went on. “My father was always opposed to the sahebs and”—she, too, used the English word—“the concessions which they demand in payment of their shining generosity. He used to say that a concession means money—but that, never, never, does it mean happiness—to us, the people of Asia. ”

“ I have the welfare of Tamerlanistan at heart ...”
“Aughrr!” grunted Ayesha Zemzem, after the manner of an indignant camel. “I know, O baseborn! At seventeen per cent compound interest a minute, and a mortgage on the cow and the unborn calf!”
“No—no—by the Holy Trimurti!” stammered Babu Chandra. “I am a friend of this land—a friend of the Gengizkhani!”
“Right!” came the cutting rejoinder, “and it has indeed been said that he who has a Babu for a friend needs no enemy. Leave this room. We like not thy fat and indecent face.”
“But—” said the Babu. ”

“ They will irrigate the dry lands. They will bore for oil. They will develop coal and copper and ruby mines. They will cause the fruit orchards to yield ten times what they are yielding now. They will make all thy subjects rich and prosperous. All they want in return for such incredible generosity is”—he used the one English word known throughout Asia—“a concession!”
“Perhaps—” began the old nurse, an eager, greedy light in her eyes.
But the princess silenced her with a gesture and turned to Chandra.
“It is useless, O Babu-jee,” she said. ”