AMAL. See that far-away hill from our window--I often long to go beyond those hills and right away. MADHAV. Oh, you silly! As if there's nothing more to be done but just get up to the top of that hill and away! Eh! You don't talk sense, my boy. Now listen, since that hill stands there upright as a barrier, it means you can't get beyond it. Else, what was the use in heaping up so many large stones to make such a big affair of it, eh! AMAL. Uncle, do you think it is meant to prevent your crossing over? It seems to me because the earth can't speak it raises its hands into the sky and beckons. And those who live far and sit alone by their windows can see the signal. But I suppose the learned people-- MADHAV. No, they don't have time for that sort of nonsense. They are not crazy like you. AMAL. Do you know, yesterday I met someone quite as crazy as I am. MADHAV. Gracious me, really, how so? AMAL. He had a bamboo staff on his shoulder with a small bundle at the top, and a brass pot in his left hand, and an old pair of shoes on; he was making for those hills straight across that meadow there. I called out to him and asked, "Where are you going?" He answered, "I don't know, anywhere!" I asked again, "Why are you going?" He said, "I'm going out to seek work." Say, Uncle, have you to seek work? MADHAV. Of course I have to. There's many about looking for jobs. AMAL. How lovely! I'll go about, like them too, finding things to do. MADHAV. Suppose you seek and don't find. Then-- AMAL. Wouldn't that be jolly? Then I should go farther! I watched that man slowly walking on with his pair of worn out shoes. And when he got to where the water flows under the fig tree, he stopped and washed his feet in the stream. Then he took out from his bundle some gram-flour, moistened it with water and began to eat. Then he tied up his bundle and shouldered it again; tucked up his cloth above his knees and crossed the stream. I've asked Auntie to let me go up to the stream, and eat my gram-flour just like him. MADHAV. And what did your Auntie say to that? AMAL. Auntie said, "Get well and then I'll take you over there." Please, Uncle, when shall I get well? MADHAV. It won't be long, dear. AMAL. Really, but then I shall go right away the moment I'm well again. MADHAV. And where will you go? AMAL. Oh, I will walk on, crossing so many streams, wading through water. Everybody will be asleep with their doors shut in the heat of the day and I will tramp on and on seeking work far, very far. MADHAV. I see! I think you had better be getting well first; then-- AMAL. But then you won't want me to be learned, will you, Uncle? MADHAV. What would you rather be then? AMAL. I can't think of anything just now; but I'll tell you later on. MADHAV. Very well. But mind you, you aren't to call out and talk to strangers again. AMAL. But I love to talk to strangers! MADHAV. Suppose they had kidnapped you?