India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; Short stories, English
‘Gullals. A piece of nonsense. I’ve far too much work to do to bother
over Gullals now. You should see my District. Come down with your
husband some day and I’ll show you round. Such a lovely place in the
Rains! A sheet of water with the railway-embankment and the snakes
sticking out, and, in the summer, green flies and green squash. The
people would die of fear if you shook a dogwhip at ‘em. But they know
you’re forbidden to do that, so they conspire to make your life a burden
to you. My District’s worked by some man at Darjiling, on the strength
of a native pleader’s false reports. Oh, it’s a heavenly place!’
Otis Yeere laughed bitterly.
‘There’s not the least necessity that you should stay in it. Why do
you?’
‘Because I must. How’m I to get out of it?’
‘How! In a hundred and fifty ways. If there weren’t so many people on
the road I’d like to box your ears. Ask, my dear boy, ask! Look! There
is young Hexarly with six years’ service and half your talents. He asked
for what he wanted, and he got it. See, down by the Convent! There’s
McArthurson, who has come to his present position by asking sheer,
downright asking after he had pushed himself out of the rank and file.
One man is as good as another in your service believe me. I’ve seen
Simla for more seasons than I care to think about. Do you suppose men
are chosen for appointments because of their special fitness beforehand?
You have all passed a high test what do you call it? in the beginning,
and, except for the few who have gone altogether to the bad, you can all
work hard. Asking does the rest. Call it cheek, call it insolence, call
it anything you like, but ask! Men argue yes, I know what men say that a
man, by the mere audacity of his request, must have some good in him. A
weak man doesn’t say: “Give me this and that.” He whines: “Why haven’t
I been given this and that?” If you were in the Army, I should say learn
to spin plates or play a tambourine with your toes. As it is ask! You
belong to a Service that ought to be able to command the Channel Fleet,
or set a leg at twenty minutes’ notice, and yet you hesitate over asking
to escape from a squashy green district where you admit you are not
master. Drop the Bengal Government altogether. Even Darjiling is
a little out-of-the-way hole. I was there once, and the rents were
extortionate. Assert yourself. Get the Government of India to take you
over. Try to get on the Frontier, where every man has a grand chance
if he can trust himself. Go somewhere! Do something! You have twice the
wits and three times the presence of the men up here, and, and’ Mrs.
Hauksbee paused for breath; then continued ‘and in any way you look at
it, you ought to. You who could go so far!’
‘I don’t know,’ said Yeere, rather taken aback by the unexpected
eloquence. ‘I haven’t such a good opinion of myself.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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