That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

I could see in my mind the twinkle of his eyes as he would have made this remark had I been near him.

The letters came and went regularly two a week. One of the rigid rules was that we were to write home only once a week. I considered this most unjust, especially if the writing did not interfere with my studies. I evaded this rule openly a number of times until I was spoken to by the principal. I then secreted the materials in my pocket and went for a walk to a place sheltered by a rock where I could be unseen and yet see any one coming. This was my writing place, that is for off-day illegal letters during the first year, except in the rains when I sought shelter in a hut built for the watchmen. My trunk on leaving home was well supplied with writing materials and with stamps, so I had no trouble in this respect. But how to get the letters to the post was my first query? I had plenty of money and had given the bearer of our room several tips already, so he was my friend and remained very devoted to me during all the years I was in school. He was a good fellow in himself and would have done me favors without reward.

I always like to speak as well as I can of human nature. It is so defective at the best that we should always keep the better view of it to the front, if possible. Yet, I think my tips had considerable to do with his constant allegiance to my interests. Money is like cement in a wall; it keeps the bricks together. The power of money! What has it not done and what is it not able to do? Nothing on earth seems able to stand before it. Nor honor, nor patriotism, integrity or virtue? Even the doors of heaven seem to be unlocked by it. If not, why the gifts of wicked men who have spent their lives in sin, if they did not have faith that they could purchase a mansion in heaven, as they could buy a ticket for a seat in a theatre?

It was privately arranged with the bearer that on certain days he would find under the sheet at the foot of my bed a letter which he was to take to the post-box on the lower road. So faithfully was this contract kept that my letters never failed to be posted.

To be sure this was a violation of the one of the rules, but what of it? I was not conscious of wrong in evading the rule. They had no right to make it. It interfered with an inalienable natural right of mine, and the right of my best friend to have the letters from me. If they had said, “You must not write during school hours,” I would have seen the sense and justice of it. My instinct rebelled against the rule and I violated it with a clear conscience. I hate injustice and have a contempt for the petty kind, and who has not? Tyranny is one of my devils, man-made, however, for I have never got my faith high enough or so low as to believe in the divine origin of the devil or any devils. They are all so low down, that man must have begotten them.

As to the rule, I took pleasure in breaking it for it was absurd and unjust. If they had posted up in our room “No pillow fights.” I would at once have said, “Right you are,” for a violation of such a rule would cause destruction of property, confusion, and no doubt the devil of quarrel would have been born.

I think that the world, as well as schools, is cursed with too much legislation. Statutes, laws, regulations, restrictions, prohibitions at every turn, are enough to make us all sinners. I often think of that old fable of Eve and the apple, that if the Lord had told her to go out and gather all the apples in the garden and eat as many as she wanted, she would have said that she did not like apples, and never did from the time she was born, they were too acidulated, and she would not have tasted even one; but when she was told not to touch any of them she was bound to break the rule, even if she broke her neck and the necks of all of us, her children. I cannot leave this without noticing a question that has often bothered me, because I am no theologist and yet cannot take everything by faith on the mere say so of man or men—and that is, since the Lord foreknew what Eve would do, why did He place the apples in the garden and then forbid her to take them? Did He not lead her into temptation? That is, if the story about her is true. If, knowing the predilections of my bearer for appropriating my property, and particularly for his dislike of seeing silver and copper coin lying around unused, why should I freely place them about in his sight to excite his desire of reciprocity, in order to tempt him and so bring punishment upon himself and upon his children? Would not I, an educated fore-thinking sahib be more to blame for what I did, than what he a poor ignorant man did? Though I have studied much, and thought a little, yet I am often puzzled by such simple questions.

It is the little things of life that bother us the most. Poor Johnny could take a flogging that raised great welts on his body without a squeal, but he could not kneel to say his prayers when the other boys could see him. I have ridden an elephant, a noble tusker, all day in the forest after tigers and he never flinched, but in the evening when he was hobbled to a tree, one little mosquito buzzing about his ears would set him frantic with rage. It is the mean, petty annoyances that make life a burden, and it is not strange when they become frequent, that many take tickets of-leave for parts unknown.

CHAPTER VII.

From the first I found myself in a very good position in the school. The principal and teachers knew who had sent me and this settled my status with them. And I knew that the principal had received a letter, for Mr. Percy told me that he would write, and that I need have no fear of my reception or treatment. The boys soon learned that the magistrate and collector of Muggerpur was my patron. They also knew that I received two letters a week from him, and so probably concluded that I must be of some account. When I became better acquainted I read some of the letters or paragraphs to some of my intimates, and this had its effect, for the letters were such that any boy or man might be proud of receiving. They might talk of their fathers, and though I never had one I could show them that I was not friendless. These things gave me a standing with the boys. Besides I had a superior outfit, comprising everything that a boy could want in school. My clothes were of the best material and made in the best style, some of them by a “Europe” tailor. I think there is nothing that gives a boy such self respect as good fitting clothes. Some of the boys, and I pitied them, had clothes that could only humiliate them. “The apparel oft proclaims the man,” and I think often greatly helps to make the man. Their trousers were either so long as to drag on the ground or so short as to expose their legs, and their coats hung like bags from their shoulders. How could a boy rigged in such fashion stand erect and be polite?