you; they are never out of doors.

AMAL. Aren't they really?

MADHAV. No, how can they? Early and late they toil and moil at
their books, and they've eyes for nothing else. Now, my little
man, you are going to be learned when you grow up; and then you
will stay at home and read such big books, and people will notice
you and say, "he's a wonder."

AMAL. No, no, Uncle; I beg of you by your dear feet--I don't
want to be learned, I won't.

MADHAV. Dear, dear; it would have been my saving if I could have
been learned.

AMAL. No, I would rather go about and see everything that there
is.

MADHAV. Listen to that! See! What will you see, what is there
so much to see?

AMAL. See that far-away hill from our window--I often long to go
beyond those hills and right away.

MADHAV. Oh, you silly! As if there's nothing more to be done
but just get up to the top of that hill and away! Eh! You don't
talk sense, my boy. Now listen, since that hill stands there
upright as a barrier, it means you can't get beyond it. Else,
what was the use in heaping up so many large stones to make such