ided over self-invited
gatherings, like hospitality incarnate. His wide appreciation of art and
talent kept him constantly radiant with enthusiasm. New ideas of
festivity or frolic, theatricals or other entertainments, found in him a
ready patron, and with his help would flourish and find fruition.

We were too young then to take any part in these doings, but the waves
of merriment and life to which they gave rise came and beat at the doors
of our curiosity. I remember how a burlesque composed by my eldest
brother was once being rehearsed in my cousin's big drawing room. From
our place against the verandah railings of our house we could hear,
through the open windows opposite, roars of laughter mixed with the
strains of a comic song, and would also occasionally catch glimpses of
Akshay Mazumdar's extraordinary antics. We could not gather exactly what
the song was about, but lived in hopes of being able to find that out
sometime.

I recall how a trifling circumstance earned for me the special regard of
cousin Gunendra. Never had I got a prize at school except once for good
conduct. Of the three of us my nephew Satya was the best at his lessons.
He once did well at some examination and was awarded a prize. As we
came home I jumped off the carriage to give the great news to my cousin
who was in the garden. "Satya has got a prize" I shouted as I ran to
him. He drew me to his knees with a smile. "And have _you_ not got a
prize?" he asked. "No," said I, "not I, it's Satya." My genuine pleasure
at Satya's success seemed to touch my cousin particularly. He turned to
his friends and remarked on it as a very creditable trait. I well
remember how mystified I felt at this, for I had not thought of my
feeling in that light. This prize that I got for not getting a prize did
not do me good. There is no harm in making gifts to children, but they
should not be rewards. It is not healthy for youngsters to be made
self-conscious.

After the mid-day meal cousin Gunendra would attend the estate offices
in our part of the house. The office room of our elders was a sort of
club where laughter and conversation were freely mixed with matters of
business. My cousin would recline on a couch, and I would seize some
opportunity of edging up to him.

[Illustration: My Eldest Brother]

He usually told me stories from Indian History. I still remember the
surprise with which I heard how Clive, after establishing British rule
in India, went back h