MEN engaged in business all the week spend very lazy Sundays. They
avail themselves of any excuse to postpone their bath and their
meals: after they have bathed and eaten, some of them play chess
and some cards: some occupy themselves in fishing, some play on
the _tomtom_ and some on the _sitar_: some lie down and sleep,
some go for a walk, and others read; but very little attention
is paid to the improvement of the mind by study or conversation
of an improving character. A good deal of idle talk is indulged
in: perhaps somebody's real or fancied disregard of caste-rules
may be discussed, and how Shambhu ate three jack-fruit at a
sitting. Such is the style of conversation with which the time
will be wiled away. Beni Babu's intelligence was of a different
order. Most people in this country have a general notion that
when school-days are over, education itself is complete; but
this is a great error. However much may be the attention paid
to the acquisition of knowledge from birth to death, the further
shore of learning is never reached. Knowledge can only increase
in proportion to the attention that is paid to learning: Beni
Babu understood this well and acted accordingly.
He had risen as usual one morning, and having first looked into
his household affairs, had taken up a book in order to prosecute
his studies, when suddenly a boy of fourteen, with a charm round
his neck, a ring in his ear, a bracelet on his wrist and an armlet
on his arm, appeared before him and saluted him. Beni Baba was
engrossed in his book, but was roused by the sound of approaching
footsteps, and guessing who the boy was, said to him: "Come here,
Matilall, come here! is all well at home?" "All is well," replied
the boy. Beni Babu bade Matilall stay with him for the night, and
promised the next morning to take him to Calcutta and put him to
school. Some little time after this, Matilall, having finished his
meal, perceived that time was likely to hang heavy on his hands,
as it would not be dark for a long time yet. Being naturally of
a very restless disposition, it was always a hard thing for him to
sit long in one place; so he rose very quietly from his seat, and
proceeded to explore the house. First he tried to work the mill for
husking rice with his feet; then he tramped about on the terraced
roof of the house; then commenced throwing bricks and tiles at
the passers by, running away when he had done so as hard as he
could. Thus he made the circuit of Bally, tramping noisily about,
stealing fruit out of people's gardens and plucking the flowers,
or else jumping about on the top of the village huts and breaking
the water-jars. The people, annoyed by such conduct as this, asked
each other: "Who is this boy? Surely our village will be ruined
as Lanka was by Hanuman the house-burner." Some of them, when
they heard the name of the boy's father, remarked: "Ah, he is the
son of Baburam Babu! what then can you expect? Is it not written:
'Men's virtues are reflected in a son, in renown, and in water?'"
As the evening drew on the village resounded with the cries of
jackals and the humming of innumerable insects. As many men of
position reside in Bally, and the _shalgram_[6] is to be found in
the houses of most of them, there was no lack of the sound of
handbells and conch shells. Beni Babu had just risen from his
reading and was stretching his limbs preparatory to a smoke, when
a great commotion suddenly arose. "Sir, the son of the zemindar of
Vaidyabati has been throwing bricks at us!" "Sir, he has thrown
away my basket!" "He has been pushing me about!" "He has grossly
insulted me!" "He has broken my pot of _ghee_!" Beni Babu, being
very tender-hearted, gave each of the men a present, and dismissed
them; then he fell to musing on the kind of training this boy must
have been given to behave in such a fashion. "A fine bringing up
the lad must have had," he said to himself, "in the short space of
three hours he has thrown the whole village into a state of panic:
it will be a great relief when he goes." Presently some of the
oldest and most respected of the inhabitants of the place came to
him and said: "Beni Babu, who is this boy? We were taking our usual
nap after our midday meal, when we were aroused by this clamour:
it is most unpleasant to have our rest broken in upon in this
way." Beni Babu replied: "Please say no more; I have had a very
heavy burden imposed upon me: one of my relatives, a zemindar, a
man rather lacking in common sense if possessed of great wealth,
has sent his son to me to put to school for him; and meanwhile
I am being worn to a mere shadow with the annoyance. If I had
to keep a boy like this with me for three days, my house would
become a ruin for doves to come and roost in."
As this conversation was proceeding, several boys approached,
Matilall in their rear, all singing at the top of their voices
the refrain --
"To Shambhu's son all honour pay,
"Shambhu, the lord of night and day."
"Ah!" said Beni Babu, "here he comes: keep quiet, perhaps
he may take it into his head to beat us: I shall not breathe
freely till I have got rid of the monkey." Seeing Beni Babu,
Matilall seemed somewhat ashamed of himself, and looked a little
disconcerted: to his question however as to where he had been,
he replied that he had merely been trying to form some idea of
the size of the place. When they had entered the house, Matilall
ordered Ram the servant to bring him some tobacco, but it was no
good giving him the ordinary make; he smoked pipe after pipe of
the very strongest, and Ram could not supply him fast enough. It
was "Ram bring this!" "Ram, I do not want that!" in fact, Ram
could not attend to any other work, but had to be constantly in
attendance upon Matilall, keeping him supplied with tobacco. Beni
Babu was astounded at such behaviour, and kept turning his head
and glancing curiously in his direction. When the time for the
evening meal came, Beni Babu took Matilall with him into the zenana
side of the house and regaled him with all sorts of luxuries;
then having taken the usual betel by way of a digestive, retired
to rest. Matilall also retired to his sleeping chamber and got
into bed, when he had chewed _pán_ and smoked enough. For some
time he tossed restlessly about, now on this side, now on that;
and every now and then he would get up and walk about, singing
snatches of the love songs of Nil Thakur, or the old story of
the separation of Radha and Krishna as told by Ram Basu. At the
noise he made, sleep fled from all in the house.
Ram and Pelaram, the gardener, an inhabitant of Kashijora, had
been asleep in the common thatched hall used for the family
worship. After the work of the day, sleep is a great relief,
and to have it rudely disturbed is naturally a source of much
irritation. Both Ram and Pelaram were roused from their rest by the
noise of the singing. Pelaram exclaimed: "Ah, Ram, my father! I
can get no sleep while this bull is bellowing in this way: I
might just as well get up and sow some seeds in the garden." Ram,
turning himself round, replied: "Ah, it is midnight! why get up
now? The master has done a fine thing in bringing this brat here[7]:
it means ruin to us all. The boy is a terrible nuisance: we shall
not breathe again till he goes."
Early next morning, Beni Babu took Matilall away with him to the
house of Becharam Banerjea of Bow Bazar. This gentleman was the son
of Kenaram Babu, and a man of very old family: he was a childlike,
simple-minded man, hair-lipped from his birth, and highly excitable
on the smallest provocation. Seeing Beni Babu, he called to him in
his peculiar nasal tone: "Come, tell me what is in your mind now?"
_Beni_.-- Well, seeing that Baburam Babu has no relative like
yourself in Calcutta, I have come to request of you that his boy
Matilall may live in your house while he is attending school,
going to Vaidyabati for his Saturday holiday.
_Becharam_.-- Well, there can be no possible objection to that. He
is perfectly welcome to come and stay in my house: this is as much
his home as his father's house is. I have no children of my own,
and only two nephews; let Matilall then stay with me as long as
he pleases.
On hearing Becharam Babu's nasal twang, Matilall burst out
laughing. Beni Babu gave a sigh of disgust, thinking to himself
that there would be little peace here so long as such a boy as
this was about. Becharam noted the jeering laugh, and observed
to Beni Babu, "Ah! friend Beni, the youngster appears somewhat
ill-mannered and boorish. I imagine that he must have been
constantly indulged from infancy."
Beni Babu was a very shrewd man. His former history was known to
all. He too had led a wild life, but had remedied everything by
his own good qualities. He now told himself that if he were to
express his real opinion of Matilall, the boy might be ruined:
there would be an end to his remaining in Calcutta and to his
school education, and it was his own earnest wish that the boy
should grow to man's estate with some sort of training at least. So
after exchanging ideas on many other topics, he took his leave
of Becharam Babu and went with Matilall to the school of one
Mr. Sherborn. Owing to the establishment of the Hindu College,
this gentleman's school had somewhat diminished in numbers: it
required all his attention, and constant toil day and night,
to keep it going. He himself was a stout man with heavy and
bushy eyebrows; was never seen without _pán_ in his mouth and
a cane in his hand; and would vary his walks up and down his
classes by occasionally sitting down and pulling at a _hooka_.
Beni Babu having placed Matilall at his school, returned to Bally.