No More Learning

I asked if he would like a native
superintendent of police with some men to make inquiries, but he
objected on the grounds the police were rather worse than smallpox and
criminal tribes put together. "

"Criminal tribes--er--I don't quite understand," said Pagett.

"We have in India many tribes of people who in the slack anti-British
days became robbers, in various kind, and preyed on the people. They are
being restrained and reclaimed little by little, and in time will become
useful citizens, but they still cherish hereditary traditions of
crime, and are a difficult lot to deal with. By the way what about the
political rights of these folk under your schemes? The country people
call them vermin, but I suppose they would be electors with the rest. "

"Nonsense--special provision would be made for them in a well-considered
electoral scheme, and they would doubtless be treated with fitting
severity," said Pagett, with a magisterial air.

"Severity, yes--but whether it would be fitting is doubtful. Even those
poor devils have rights, and, after all, they only practice what they
have been taught. "

"But criminals, Orde! "

"Yes, criminals with codes and rituals of crime, gods and godlings of
crime, and a hundred songs and sayings in praise of it. Puzzling, isn't
it? "

"It's simply dreadful. They ought to be put down at once. Are there many
of them?
"

"Not more than about sixty thousand in this province, for many of the
tribes broadly described as criminal are really vagabond and criminal
only on occasion, while others are being settled and reclaimed. They are
of great antiquity, a legacy from the past, the golden, glorious
Aryan past of Max Muller, Birdwood and the rest of your spindrift
philosophers. "

An orderly brought a card to Orde, who took it with a movement of
irritation at the interruption, and banded it to Pagett; a large card
with a ruled border in red ink, and in the centre in schoolboy copper
plate, Mr. Dma Nath. "Give salaam," said the civilian, and there
entered in haste a slender youth, clad in a closely fitting coat of grey
homespun, tight trousers, patent-leather shoes, and a small black velvet
cap. His thin cheek twitched, and his eyes wandered restlessly, for the
young man was evidently nervous and uncomfortable, though striving to
assume a free and easy air.

"Your honor may perhaps remember me," he said in English, and Orde
scanned him keenly.

"I know your face somehow. You belonged to the Shershah district I
think, when I was in charge there? "

"Yes, Sir, my father is writer at Shershah, and your honor gave me a
prize when I was first in the Middle School examination five years ago.
Since then I have prosecuted my studies, and I am now second year's
student in the Mission College--"

"Of course: you are Kedar Nath's son--the boy who said he liked
geography better than play or sugar cakes, and I didn't believe you. How
is your father getting on? "

"He is well, and he sends his salaam, but his circumstances are
depressed, and he also is down on his luck. "

"You learn English idioms at the Mission College, it seems. "

"Yes, sir, they are the best idioms, and my father ordered me to ask
your honor to say a word for him to the present incumbent of your
honor's shoes, the latchet of which he is not worthy to open, and who
knows not Joseph; for things are different at Shershah now, and my
father wants promotion. "

"Your father is a good man, and I will do what I can for him.