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, be would dream night after night of his village home, and
long to be back there. He remembered the glorious meadow where he used
to By 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.