Well, I declare. Here is Dada, our cargo-boat of moral-maxims, towed against the current of his own pen and ink.
Chandra
But you mustn't give April all the credit for that. For I, Chandra, have hidden the yellow leaves of his manuscript book among the young buds of the pial forest, and Dada is out looking for it.
The manuscript book banished! What a good riddance!
We ought to strip off Dada's grey philosopher's cloak also.
Chandra
Yes, the very dust of the earth is tingling with youth, and yet there's not a single touch of Spring in the whole of Dada's body.
Dada
Oh, do stop this fooling. What a nuisance you are making of yourselves! We aren't children any longer.
Chandra