No More Learning

This is a
slack, kutcha country where all men work with imperfect instruments; and
the wisest thing is to take no one and nothing in earnest, but to escape
as soon as ever you can to some place where amusement is amusement and a
reputation worth the having.

But this Boy--the tale is as old as the Hills--came out, and took all
things seriously. He was pretty and was petted. He took the pettings
seriously, and fretted over women not worth saddling a pony to call
upon. He found his new free life in India very good.

It DOES look attractive in the beginning, from a Subaltern's point of
view--all ponies, partners, dancing, and so on. He tasted it as the
puppy tastes the soap. Only he came late to the eating, with a growing
set of teeth. He had no sense of balance--just like the puppy--and could
not understand why he was not treated with the consideration he received
under his father's roof. This hurt his feelings.

He quarrelled with other boys, and, being sensitive to the marrow,
remembered these quarrels, and they excited him. He found whist, and
gymkhanas, and things of that kind (meant to amuse one after office)
good; but he took them seriously too, just as he took the "head" that
followed after drink. He lost his money over whist and gymkhanas because
they were new to him.

He took his losses seriously, and wasted as much energy and interest
over a two-gold-mohur race for maiden ekka-ponies with their manes
hogged, as if it had been the Derby. One-half of this came from
inexperience--much as the puppy squabbles with the corner of the
hearth-rug--and the other half from the dizziness bred by stumbling out
of his quiet life into the glare and excitement of a livelier one.
No
one told him about the soap and the blacking because an average man
takes it for granted that an average man is ordinarily careful in regard
to them. It was pitiful to watch The Boy knocking himself to pieces, as
an over-handled colt falls down and cuts himself when he gets away from
the groom.

This unbridled license in amusements not worth the trouble of breaking
line for, much less rioting over, endured for six months--all through
one cold weather--and then we thought that the heat and the knowledge
of having lost his money and health and lamed his horses would sober
The Boy down, and he would stand steady. In ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred this would have happened. You can see the principle working in
any Indian Station. But this particular case fell through because The
Boy was sensitive and took things seriously--as I may have said some
seven times before. Of course, we couldn't tell how his excesses struck
him personally.

They were nothing very heart-breaking or above the average. He might be
crippled for life financially, and want a little nursing.

Still the memory of his performances would wither away in one hot
weather, and the shroff would help him to tide over the money troubles.
But he must have taken another view altogether and have believed himself
ruined beyond redemption. His Colonel talked to him severely when the
cold weather ended. That made him more wretched than ever; and it was
only an ordinary "Colonel's wigging! "

What follows is a curious instance of the fashion in which we are all
linked together and made responsible for one another. THE thing that
kicked the beam in The Boy's mind was a remark that a woman made when he
was talking to her. There is no use in repeating it, for it was only a
cruel little sentence, rapped out before thinking, that made him flush
to the roots of his hair.