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 day the teacher would cane him unmercifully. His
condition became so abjectly miserable that even his cousins were
ashamed to own him. They began to jeer and insult him more than the
other boys. He went to his aunt at last, and told her that he bad lost
his book.

His aunt pursed her lips in contempt, and said: "You great clumsy,
country lout. How can I afford, with all my family, to buy you new
books five times a month?"

That night, on his way back from school, Phatik had a bad headache with
a fit of shivering. He felt he was going to have an attack of malarial
fever. His one great fear was that he would be a nuisance to his aunt.

The next morning Phatik was nowhere to be seen. All searches in the
neighbourhood proved futile. The rain had been pouring in torrents all
night, and those who went out in search of the boy got drenched through
to the skin. At last Bisbamber asked help from the police.

At the end of the day a police van stopped at the door before the house.
It was still raining and the streets were all flooded. Two
constables brought out Phatik in their arms and placed him before
Bishamber. He was wet through from head to foot, muddy all over, his
face and eyes flushed red with fever, and his limbs all trembling.
Bishamber carried him in his arms, and took him into the inner
apartments. When his wife saw him, she exclaimed; "What a heap of
trouble this boy has given us. Hadn't you better send him home ?"