of nocturnal edification.

My early months with Sri Yukteswar culminated in a useful lesson-"How
to Outwit a Mosquito." At home my family always used protective
curtains at night. I was dismayed to discover that in the Serampore
hermitage this prudent custom was honored in the breach. Yet the
insects were in full residency; I was bitten from head to foot. My
guru took pity on me.

"Buy yourself a curtain, and also one for me." He laughed and added,
"If you buy only one, for yourself, all mosquitoes will concentrate
on me!"

I was more than thankful to comply. Every night that I spent in
Serampore, my guru would ask me to arrange the bedtime curtains.

The mosquitoes one evening were especially virulent. But Master
failed to issue his usual instructions. I listened nervously to
the anticipatory hum of the insects. Getting into bed, I threw a
propitiatory prayer in their general direction. A half hour later,
I coughed pretentiously to attract my guru's attention. I thought
I would go mad with the bites and especially the singing drone as
the mosquitoes celebrated bloodthirsty rites.

No responsive stir from Master; I approached him cautiously. He was
not breathing. This was my first observation of him in the yogic
trance; it filled me with fright.

"His heart must have failed!" I placed a mirror under his nose;
no breath-vapor appeared. To make doubly certain, for minutes I