Amal [With a sigh] Ah, I am so stupid! I don't read books.
Madhav. Now, think of it; very, very learned people are all like 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.