The Spoilt Child/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
Matilall at School.
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 Babu 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 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,
"Shambu, 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: 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.