This was absurd. Till we came here, with our commercial creed that money makes the man, education in Burma was universal and free to the poor, and, however it be in England, where factory workers breed in slums and breathe polluted air, in Burma the working man lives mostly in the fields, and is sturdier, and often more sensible, than the idler. The herdsmen reluctantly admitted this; and it led to a digression.
In a Socratic way, I explained the gospel of work, with half-and-half acceptance as long as I [91] ]quoted only Chinese maxims and examples; but, happening to hint that the English also had that to teach the East, I spoiled the lesson. There was a general laugh. “When do the English work?” Then one asked the other: ”Did you ever see an Englishman working?” They said to each other that the only Englishmen who worked were one or two, whom the others did not speak to, but treated like the Pagoda-slaves of native Burma. We returned to the buffaloes.
“Why is the wild one the better?”
“He is stronger, and fresher, and quieter.”
“Quieter?”
“Yes. He thinks of men, women and children as his feeders, and will never hurt anybody, and a little child can lead him.”
“A child can drive the village cattle.”
“The wild ones tamed are safest of all.” (It should be noted that the domestic buffalo is dangerous occasionally, and people are sometimes hurt or killed by them.)
“Don’t they notice that men caught them?”
“They’re not clever enough for that.”