six-year-old boys and one youth of sixteen. He directed their minds
and lives with that careful discipline in which the word "disciple"
is etymologically rooted. The ashram residents loved and revered
their guru; a slight clap of his hands sufficed to bring them
eagerly to his side. When his mood was silent and withdrawn, no one
ventured to speak; when his laugh rang jovially, children looked
upon him as their own.

Master seldom asked others to render him a personal service, nor would
he accept help from a student unless the willingness were sincere.
My guru quietly washed his clothes if the disciples overlooked that
privileged task. Sri Yukteswar wore the traditional ocher-colored
swami robe; his laceless shoes, in accordance with yogi custom,
were of tiger or deer skin.

Master spoke fluent English, French, Hindi, and Bengali; his
Sanskrit was fair. He patiently instructed his young disciples by
certain short cuts which he had ingeniously devised for the study
of English and Sanskrit.

Master was cautious of his body, while withholding solicitous
attachment. The Infinite, he pointed out, properly manifests through
physical and mental soundness. He discountenanced any extremes. A
disciple once started a long fast. My guru only laughed: "Why not
throw the dog a bone?"

Sri Yukteswar's health was excellent; I never saw him unwell.
{FN12-14} He permitted students to consult doctors if it seemed
advisable. His purpose was to give respect to the worldly custom:
"Physicians must carry on their work of healing through God's laws