haking voice.
'It is manifest that from time to time I shall acquire merit if before
that I have not found my River--by assuring myself that thy feet are
set on wisdom. What they will teach thee I do not know, but the priest
wrote me that no son of a Sahib in all India will be better taught than
thou. So from time to time, therefore, I will come again. Maybe thou
wilt be such a Sahib as he who gave me these spectacles'--the lama
wiped them elaborately--'in the Wonder House at Lahore. That is my
hope, for he was a Fountain of Wisdom--wiser than many abbots ....
Again, maybe thou wilt forget me and our meetings.'

'If I eat thy bread,' cried Kim passionately, 'how shall I ever forget
thee?'

'No--no.' He put the boy aside. 'I must go back to Benares. From
time to time, now that I know the customs of letter-writers in this
land, I will send thee a letter, and from time to time I will come and
see thee.'

'But whither shall I send my letters?' wailed Kim, clutching at the
robe, all forgetful that he was a Sahib.

'To the Temple of the Tirthankars at Benares. That is the place I have
chosen till I find my River. Do not weep; for, look you, all Desire is
Illusion and a new binding upon the Wheel. Go up to the Gates of
Learning. Let me see thee go ... Dost thou love me? Then go, or my
heart cracks ... I will come again. Surely I will come again.

The lama watched the ticca-gharri rumble into the compound, and strode
off, snuffing between each long stride.

'The Gates of Learning' shut with a clang.

The country born and bred boy has his own manners and customs, which do
not resemble those of any other land; and his teachers approach him by
roads which an English master would not understand. Therefore, you
would scarcely be interested in Kim's experiences as a St Xavier's boy
among two or three hundred precocious youths, most of whom had never
seen the sea. He suffered the usual penalties for breaking out of
bounds when there was cholera in the city. This was before he had
learned to write fair English, and so was obliged to find a bazar
letter-writer. He was, of course, indicted for smoking and for the use
of abuse more full-flavoured than even St Xavier's had ever heard. He
learned to wash himself with the Levitical scrupulosity of the
native-born, who in his heart considers the Englishman rather dirty.
He played the usual tricks on the patient coolies pulling the punkahs
in the sleeping-rooms whe