The Life of a Hindu Woman; And; the Biography of Libbie Cilley Griffin

One day in September in one of the great houses of a large city in Bengal, India, a baby girl is born.

Not a conch shell blows to tell the neighbors that a child is born in the great house, for never in all India was a conch shell blown when a baby girl was born.

Had the child been a boy there would have been great rejoicing, and the sound of these shells pealing out like clear-voiced horns would have told the neighbors that a son had come to add importance to the great house. No ()lie is glad when a girl is born and it is better if the neighbors do not know. But there is special grief and disappointment when this child is born, and the mother, lying on a mat on the floor, turns her face to the wall and sheds hitter tears. She has been married eleven ,,cars and has had no son. Her husband has seemed to love her, he has been pleased with her beauty, he has always treated her quite kindly, and has paid more attention to her, she is sure, than many Bengali men do to their wives. But because she has had no son, her husband has told her that soon, according to Hindu custom, lie must take another wife. She cannot blame him, she only bewails her fate, and has fasted and given gifts to the Brahmans, and pled with the gods, and made vows of what she would give to them if they would but hear her prayer and give to her a son. Then came hope. But today the child has been laid in her arms and it is only a girl.