is to receive the kind looks of women, and never to be
slighted by them.

It was anguish to Phatik to be the unwelcome guest in his aunt's house,
despised by this elderly woman, and slighted, on every occasion. If she
ever asked him to do anything for her, he would be so overjoyed that he
would overdo it; and then she would tell him not to be so stupid, but to
get on with his lessons.

The cramped atmosphere of neglect in his aunt's house oppressed Phatik
so much that he felt that he could hardly breathe. He wanted to go out
into the open country and fill his lungs and breathe freely. But there
was no open country to go to. Surrounded on all sides by Calcutta houses
and walls, he would dream night after night of his village home, and
long to be back there. He remembered the glorious meadow where he used
to fly his kite all day long; the broad river-banks where he would wander
about the livelong day singing and shouting for joy; the narrow brook
where he could go and dive and swim at any time he liked. He thought of
his band of boy companions over whom he was despot; and, above all, the
memory of that tyrant mother of his, who had such a prejudice against
him, occupied him day and night. A kind of physical love like that of
animals; a longing to be in the presence of the one who is loved; an
inexpressible wistfulness during absence; a silent cry of the inmost
heart for the mother, like the lowing of a calf in the twilight;-this
love, which was almost an animal instinct, agitated the shy, nervous,
lean, uncouth and ugly boy. No one could understand it, but it preyed
upon his mind continually.

There was no more backward boy in the whole school than Phatik. He gaped
and remained silent when the teacher asked him a question, and like an
overladen ass patiently suffered all the blows that came down on his
back. When other boys were out at play, he stood wistfully by the window
and gazed at the roofs of the distant houses. And if by chance he espied
children playing on the open terrace of any roof, his heart would ache
with longing.

One day he summoned up all his courage, and asked his uncle: "Uncle,
when can I go home?"

His uncle answered; "Wait till the holidays come." But the holidays would
not come till November, and there was a long time still to wait.

One day Phatik lost his lesson-book. Even with the help of books he
had found it very difficult indeed to prepare his lesson. Now it was
impossible. Day after da