Schoolboy/ 
 
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 SB Ib 
 
m*m*:*i.3i 
 
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 REESE LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ^Received 
 
 1 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE 
 

 OF THE 
 IVERSITY/ 
 i 
 
EVERY ARM WAS RAISED. 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS 
 
 IN FRANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 ANDRE LAURIE 
 
 TRANSLATED BY E. P. ROBINS 
 
 
 (TJNIVERSITY) 
 
 Illustrate* 
 
 BOSTON 
 ESTES AND LAURIAT 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
. G 
 
 1 
 
 Copyright, 1896, 
 BY ESTES AND LAURIAT 
 
 Colonial Press: 
 
 C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 
 Electrotyped by Geo. C. Scott & Sons 
 
XTNIVERSITT 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. BlLLANCOUKT 9 
 
 II. To MONSIEUR JACQUES BAUDOUIN, AT BOURGAS, NEAR 
 
 CHATILLON-SUR-LEZE 23 
 
 III. MY FRIEND MOLECULE. A MISPRIZED POET. LECA- 
 
 CHEY SHOWS His COLOURS. TRONC-DE-CONE . . 34 
 
 IV. To MONSIEUR ALBERT BESNARD, AT THE LYCEE MON- 
 
 TAIGNE, PARIS 47 
 
 V. THE CAGNOTTE. A PHILOSOPHER 55 
 
 VI. LEGE Qu^so 64 
 
 VII. 'ANATKH .... ." v ?...., 75 
 
 VIII. THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN 86 
 
 IX. BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MOLIERE 97 
 
 X. APPROACH OF AUTUMN. CAN I BELIEVE MY EYES? . . 113 
 
 XI. THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE 125 
 
 XII. WINTER SPORTS. THINGS TALKED OF IN THE PLAY- 
 GROUND. A BEGINNING OF REHABILITATION. OF 
 
 THE DANGER OF FENCING WITHOUT A MASK ... 138 
 
 XIII. A NEW PROFESSOR 158 
 
 XIV. RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE-STUDENT 179 
 
 XV. IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. THE LECACHEY FAMILY. 
 
 A PETITION 192 
 
 XVI. THE PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. CON- 
 
 CIONES LATINS. MR. MURCHISON'S IDEAS. EASTER. 
 
 PANADA 205 
 
 XVII. IN DEEP WATER 222 
 
 XVIII. EXAMINATIONS. How KINDRED SPIRITS MEET . . . 233 
 
 XIX. CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES 248 
 
 XX. OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. THE DUCK DINNER ... 261 
 
 XXI. AUNT AUBERT'S IRE 281 
 
 XXII. AT THE SORBONNE. A BUNCH OF PRIZES. LATEST IN- 
 TELLIGENCE. CONCLUSION 295 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 "EVERY ARM WAS RAISED" Frontispiece 
 
 HEAD- PIECE TO CHAPTER 1 9 
 
 "'WHAT Is THAT?' SAID AUNT AUBERT" 15 
 
 "THE OFFICE, THE STUDY, THE PARLOUR OF M. LE CONCIERGE" 25 
 
 "'MY SUBJECT Is TOBACCO!'" 39 
 
 "THE GIANT Is ATTACKED CLOSE TO THE GROUND" .... 51 
 
 "As FOR ME, I WAS DUMFOUNDED" 7 1 
 
 "THE FIRST DAY I STROLLED UP THE CHAMPS ELYSE'ES IN 
 
 ALL THE GLORY OF MY NEW CLOTHES" Si 
 
 "'BROTHER, No ONE MAY SNORE IN THE DORMITORY'". . . 95 
 
 "SOMETHING IN ME SEEMS TO HAVE GlVEN WAY" .... IO; 
 
 "MOLECULE'S LITTLE LEGS GAVE WAY BENEATH HIM" ... 115 
 
 "THE VENUS OF MILO APPEARED BEFORE THEM" 133 
 
 " VERSCHUREN ATTACKED WITH SUCH VIGOUR" 153 
 
 "M. PELLERIN QUICKLY PUT Us AT OUR EASE". ..... 167 
 
 " M. DESBANS COLLARING THOMEREAU " . . ." 187 
 
 "'CRESTFALLEN AS A FOX MADE PRISONER BY A HEN'" . .195 
 "MOLECULE BROUGHT OUT THE NUMBER 1132. IT WAS 
 
 MINE! " 219 
 
 "!T WAS AN ARMY OF SWEEPS AND SCAVENGERS" 231 
 
 " WE CAME OUT ON THE PLACE GERSON " 235 
 
 "BAUDOUIN TOOK ME IN His ARMS AND HUGGED ME" ... 257 
 
 " POLLUX WAS 'DOWNED;' THE FACT WAS INCONTESTABLE" . 273 
 
 '*'! SHALL TAKE ALBERT WITH ME, UNDERSTAND! '" .... 291 
 
 "BAUDOUIN BROKE THE SEAL AND READ ALOUD" 303 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BILLANCOURT. 
 
 THIS book will serve to give inchoate collegians a fore- 
 taste of the life that is in store for them as " big 
 boys," in the schoolboy acceptation of the term, and also 
 an idea of the distance that parts an urchin of the sixth 
 form from that important individual, a candidate for an 
 A. B. degree. 
 
 Our narrative opens in a salon, furnished with some pre- 
 tension to elegance, on the first floor of a Parisian villa, 
 standing by itself in the middle of a great lawn and flower 
 beds, on the Quai de Billancourt. 
 
 In front and at a distance of a hundred paces the Seine 
 propels its gentle tide under the vessels floating on its 
 
10 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 bosom, between two rows of quivering poplars and past 
 the lie Seguin. To the left and somewhat in the rear are 
 three five-story structures, overtopped by a tall chimney 
 from which pour clouds of smoke. Along the tow-path 
 are mountains of pink and white beets, which an endless 
 chain of labourers, treading on one another's heels and 
 walking with measured steps, like a procession of human 
 ants, are loading in basketfuls into the hold of a vessel 
 made fast to the wharf. 
 
 Further away may be seen carts with gigantic horses 
 harnessed to them, a train of cars side-tracked on a switch, 
 busy, bustling crews of workmen, white wreaths of steam 
 rising in the air, all the turmoil and activity of a sugar 
 refinery in full blast. 
 
 It is Sunday to-day, and the clocks have just struck 
 eleven. But work goes on without cessation, day and 
 night, at the works at this season of the year. The time 
 lost during the hot months has to be made up, when 
 operations are suspended because the syrup sours. 
 
 A cheerful little fire is blazing on the hearth of the 
 salon. We are in October, and although the approaches of 
 winter are as yet scarcely perceptible, mamma's delicate 
 health requires this precaution. 
 
 Seated at the corner of the fireplace and with her back 
 to the light, she is reading aloud Jules Verne's last 
 romance for the entertainment of the family, while in the 
 opposite corner grandpa, snugly wrapped in his warm 
 dressing-gown, while pretending to give all his attention 
 to the reading, keeps his eyes fixed on the clock and is 
 evidently deeply interested in the movement of the creep- 
 ing hands. 
 
 It is plain that he is impatiently awaiting the arrival of 
 some one who should be there already, for now you 
 
BILLANCOURT. I I 
 
 may see him laboriously extract his great thick repeater 
 from his fob and compare its indications with the 
 clock's. 
 
 " Excuse me for interrupting you," he says at last to 
 mamma, " but don't you think Albert should be here by 
 this time." 
 
 " Why, it is five minutes past eleven ! " mamma replies. 
 " I hope they have n't kept him in, by way of celebrating 
 his admission to the Lycee Montaigne ! " 
 
 The aspiration has scarce more than left mamma's lips 
 than the door-bell rings and answers her. Three seconds 
 later a great, lanky, long-legged collegian bursts into the 
 room. 
 
 " Good morning, mamma ! Good morning, grandpa ! 
 I am a little late, we stopped on the way, you see, papa 
 and I. You shall know all about it presently Where is 
 Aunt Aubert ? " 
 
 There is a sound of kisses, a general movement, the 
 book is relegated to the table. Here comes papa with a 
 smile on his face and mamma is relieved of her anxiety. 
 
 That great boy to whom so warm a welcome is extended 
 is none other than I, Albert Besnard (your prospective par- 
 ent), seventeen years old at the present writing, very proud 
 of a budding mustache and some indications of side 
 whiskers, supplemented by a pair of shoulders that a coal 
 heaver need not be ashamed of, and not a little embarrassed 
 by two big red hands, protruding from the tight sleeves of 
 his tunic. 
 
 With my proud privilege of writing " Bachelor of Let- 
 ters " after my name for it is three months since the 
 university honoured me with that distinction the reader 
 will readily conceive that I regard myself as a person of no 
 mean importance in this sublunary world. 
 
12 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 A pocket mirror that I consult quite frequently, to ver- 
 ify the condition of my facial crinose system, might pos- 
 sibly tell me that that famous down, of which I am so 
 proud, gives me a vague resemblance to a newly-hatched 
 chicken. But never mind, it suffices for me, to appre- 
 ciate it at its real value, to see the ill-concealed envy that 
 it inspires in most of my comrades. 
 
 About this time, our family had packed its goods and 
 chattels, and removed from the department of the Leze 
 to the environs of Paris. A distant cousin, of whom we 
 knew next to nothing, had died and left to my mother 
 a great sugar refinery at Billancourt. Up to that time, 
 my father's occupation on his estate of Saint - Lager, 
 near Chatillon, where I pursued my studies, had been 
 purely agricultural. His first idea, therefore, had been 
 to sell this unexpected and somewhat troublesome inheri- 
 tance. 
 
 But he could not have disposed of the property at 
 forced sale, without incurring a very considerable loss on 
 its real value. Time was pressing, for autumn was ap- 
 proaching, and the work of sugar grinding is only carried 
 on from October to April. On the other hand, my 
 father reflected that his administrative abilities, he had 
 shown what they were for fifteen years, as Mayor of his 
 commune, and member of the General Council, espe- 
 cially when supplemented by the experience he had gained 
 as director of a great agricultural enterprise, would make 
 it quite possible for him to assume control of the works in 
 his own person. 
 
 The concern was in an admirable condition of organiza- 
 tion ; there was a certain and steady sale for the product. 
 Contracts had been signed with the farmers for their 
 beets for several years ahead ; the processes were per- 
 
BILLANCOURT. 13 
 
 fectly simple. There was an assured fortune in sight at 
 the end of a few years. "All there was to do, was to 
 stoop and pick it up," said grandpa. 
 
 It was he who had first given his opinion in so many 
 words that we should leave our province, and come and 
 settle at Billancourt. It was certainly harder on him 
 than on any other member of the family to renounce his 
 habits of a lifetime, his house, his beloved garden. 
 
 11 But it is a sacrifice that we owe to Albert's future," 
 he declared. 
 
 And all objections paled their fires before this unan- 
 swerable argument. 
 
 The time was also at hand, when, my studies being fin- 
 ished at the Lycee of Chatillon-sur-Leze, it would be nec- 
 essary to send me to Paris to complete them, and prepare 
 for the examinations for admission to a State school. It 
 was naturally a subject of grief and anxiety to my parents 
 to see this moment drawing near. And here was an op- 
 portunity of escaping that separation, of being all together 
 in our own house at Paris ! 
 
 Mamma and grandpa adopted the plan with such enthu- 
 siasm, that it was soon a settled question. Our good 
 Aunt Aubert, who had long been one of the family, and 
 always did her best to spoil me, asserted that she would 
 follow us to Greenland, if necessary. 
 
 There was no intention of going so far as that. One 
 small circumstance, however, came near nipping our proj- 
 ect in the bud. 
 
 My father had seen the injudiciousness of embarking 
 in the new enterprise, without adequate capital. This 
 capital, unfortunately, our cousin had not left behind him 
 when he departed from this wicked world. He was an 
 old bachelor, and, following the reprehensible custom of 
 
14 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 his species, had made it his practice to spend all his 
 income and sometimes a little more. 
 
 It was necessary, consequently, to arrange for a loan ; 
 to mortgage not only the refinery, but our property at 
 Saint-Lager. ^ 
 
 The idea made everybody tremble. 
 
 The temptation was great, however, and it was decided 
 to take the risky step. The project had taken such a 
 firm hold on every one, that it was not to be abandoned. 
 
 My father resigned his office as Mayor, and let out his 
 farms on long leases ; the old mansion, in which we ex- 
 pected henceforth to pass only a month or two each year, 
 was left to the care of trusty hands, and the caravan set 
 out for Paris. 
 
 We had scarcely been installed there a week, when, 
 with an eye to improving myself in rhetoric, I entered the 
 Lycee Montaigne, in the capacity of a boarder, and this 
 Sunday marked my first day's absence from the abode of 
 learning. 
 
 Aunt Aubert had no more than heard the bell, than she 
 came running in, all smiles. 
 
 " Ah, my dear, here you are at last ! I am making one 
 of those vanilla custards for you, that you are so fond of." 
 
 And she fell to hugging me as if she never would 
 leave off. 
 
 "And I, auntie, beg you to accept this little bunch of 
 roses ; for to-morrow is your birthday did you know 
 it ? " 
 
 " Why, that is true ! He remembered it ! How nice 
 of you, dear boy ! " 
 
 And the good creature's eyes are full of tears. She 
 gives me another series of hugs, which I return with 
 interest. 
 
WHAT IS THAT ? ' SAID AUNT AUBERT.' 
 
OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
DIVERSITY 
 BILLANCO URT. 17 
 
 Now we all descend to the rez-de-chaussee and gather in 
 our dining-room, where furniture and decorations are of 
 brand-new " old oak." Papa, who is waiting for us, with 
 his legs under the table, laughs in his beard, and looks 
 at mamma and Aunt Aubert. As they unfold their nap- 
 kins, both of them, almost simultaneously, give utterance 
 to a little scream. 
 
 "A jewel case?" says mamma. 
 
 " What can it be ? " hazards Aunt Aubert. 
 
 " It " appears to be two little boxes of red morocco, 
 which, on being opened, disclose to view two pairs of dia- 
 mond earrings nestling in their bed of blue velvet. 
 
 "Albert and I were delayed a little at the jeweller's," 
 says my father. "We knew that to-morrow is Aunt 
 Aubert's fete, and we thought these little pebbles might 
 afford you pleasure." 
 
 Aunt Aubert is so touched by the delicate attention that 
 she cannot speak a word, but two moist eyes rivalling the 
 pretty stones in brilliancy speak for her with sufficient 
 plainness. 
 
 " But to-morrow is not my fete" says mamma ; " I am 
 entitled to no present. These gems are really too 
 beautiful." 
 
 " Bah ! call it a payment on account against New 
 Year's." 
 
 " Cousin," Aunt Aubert at last spoke up, with an air that 
 she unsuccessfully endeavoured to make didactic, " I fear 
 you have been guilty of an extravagance. Just see the fire 
 these stones emit ! " she added, showing them to grandpa. 
 
 " That is no more than it is their business to do, as dia- 
 monds," the latter rejoined, smiling at her enthusiasm. 
 
 " Bah ! " said my father, " I would have you know that 
 we are on the road to become millionaires. My first boil- 
 
I 8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 ing of sugar was the finest that ever left the works ; the 
 chemist told me so yesterday, and the books bear him 
 out." 
 
 The conversation presently turned on my experiences 
 at the Lycee Montaigne. 
 
 "Well," asked grandpa, "what is your impression? 
 How do you like your new surroundings ? " 
 
 " Things are very much the same as at Chatillon. There 
 are a great many more of us, nine hundred boarders, I 
 am told, and the principal, M. Montus, is a far more im- 
 portant personage. He is a commander in the Legion of 
 Honour, if you please, and access to him is not always 
 obtainable by ordinary mortals. With that exception, 
 though, there is very little difference." 
 
 " The studies are not more difficult ? " 
 
 "About that it is hard to say as yet," I replied, 
 evasively. 
 
 The fact is that on the preceding day I had been rated 
 seventeen in Latin Composition, a circumstance that 
 was not at all flattering to the vanity of a provincial 
 prize winner, and I did not care either to consider this 
 first trial as decisive or to say much of the result. I 
 was not displeased, therefore, when another subject was 
 broached. 
 
 " I saw M. Desbans, your professor of mathematics, 
 yesterday," my father remarked. 
 
 " The boys call him Tronc-de- Cone," I replied, with a 
 smile that I was unable to suppress. 
 
 " Tronc-de-C6ne, eh? Well, that is not a surname that 
 a professor of mathematics should take offense at," my 
 father gravely rejoined, "although it does not come with 
 a very good grace from a lot of silly youngsters like you. 
 M. Desbans is a very eminent man ; he carried off dis- 
 
BILLANCO URT. 19 
 
 tinguished honours in his time, both at the I?cole Polytech- 
 nique and at the Ecole Normale, scientific section, and it 
 won't be long before he will be elected to the Institute, a 
 distinction that he has earned by his profound researches. 
 That is what I was told by M. Raynaud, our engineer, who 
 was his schoolmate. It was at his recommendation that I 
 went to see M. Desbans to ask him to give you private 
 lessons, and I am pleased to inform you that he will." 
 
 " But, my dear father," I strenuously objected, " I shall 
 have no time to give to mathematics without neglecting 
 my other studies. I already have as much as I can do to 
 keep up with my class." 
 
 " Good ! I assured myself, after consulting competent 
 authorities, that that is a fear for which there is no founda- 
 tion. An hour or two daily devoted to mathematics will 
 not interfere with your other studies, and at the end of 
 the year will entitle you to your degree as bachelor of 
 science. That will give you more liberty of choice when 
 you come to select a career. Don't you think that is 
 an advantage? " 
 
 " I don't say that it is not, but in selecting rhetoric for 
 my principal study the object was to get all the benefit 
 possible from it. Don't you think it would be better " 
 
 " No, I do not. On the contrary, I am convinced that 
 the study of mathematics, even if regarded only in the 
 light of simple intellectual gymnastics, cannot fail to 
 strengthen your understanding, giving increased precision 
 to your style and stability to your taste. Even from an 
 exclusively literary point of view, I am certain that it will 
 be assuring you an advantage over your comrades." 
 
 " Are you not afraid, cousin," Aunt Aubert here inter- 
 vened, " that such close application may prove too much 
 for the poor fellow's strength ? " 
 
20 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 She had been exhibiting signs of impatience for some 
 minutes. 
 
 " True," said my father, with a laugh, " Albert does look 
 like a young man incapable of supporting much fatigue. 
 Look at those shoulders once, Aunt Aubert ; don't you 
 think they reflect credit on the university ? Besides, 
 there is nothing like change of occupation to avoid fatigue. 
 Albert will exercise an additional half - hour in the gym- 
 nasium, if necessary, and you will see that he will be stouter 
 and healthier than ever." 
 
 And as I maintained a diplomatic silence, 
 
 "Come," my father continued, "I see that I must own 
 up to everything." 
 
 I looked at him rather doubtfully. 
 
 " I saw some one besides M. Desbans. I also saw M. 
 Goudouneix, the master-at-arms of the school, a charming 
 man, who very kindly promised to teach his art to a strap- 
 ping young fellow of my acquaintance." 
 
 My eyes began to dance in my head. It had long been 
 my wish to take fencing lessons, and now the desire of my 
 heart was gratified by my dear father. I impulsively left 
 my seat and went over and embraced him. 
 
 " More devices for breaking all the bones in his body ! " 
 murmured Aunt Aubert. 
 
 " Oh, no ; on the contrary, it affords means of protect- 
 ing life and honour," said grandpa, who had himself en- 
 joyed some reputation as a swordsman about 1826. 
 
 "Don't talk like that; you make one's flesh creep," 
 cried Aunt Aubert. 
 
 My father thought a diversion would be in order. 
 
 "Mr. Goudouneix told me that young Lecachey, my 
 banker's son, will share your lessons. Do you know 
 him ? " 
 
BILLANCOURT. 21 
 
 " I think I have heard the name, but I never took notice 
 of the bearer of it. He is probably a day scholar." 
 
 After breakfast my father went off about his business 
 and I ascended to the drawing-room with mamma and 
 Aunt Aubert. While chatting with them I looked through 
 a number of the Revue des Deux Mondes that was lying on 
 the table. 
 
 "Hello!" I suddenly exclaimed, "here is an article by 
 M. Pellerin on Aristophanes and Greek comedy." 
 
 " But you don't know that the writer is your old tutor, 
 do you ? " asked my mother. 
 
 "Oh, I haven't the least doubt E. Pellerin his 
 name is Edouard. Besides, he spent two years in Greece 
 as a student at the School of Athens after passing his bril- 
 liant examination for a fellowship, and Aristophanes was 
 always a favourite subject with him." 
 
 " His article is very interesting ; learned, without being 
 heavy." 
 
 " You need not fear for M. Pellerin ; he will get on. 
 To think that only six years ago he was my tutor ! it 
 does n't seem possible, does it ? But then he has worked 
 so hard ; all who know him have the highest regard and 
 admiration for him." 
 
 " You used to love him, if I remember right ? " said 
 Aunt Aubert. 
 
 " Love him ? I should say I did ! who could help loving 
 a man so kind, so patient, so learned, and yet so modest ? 
 Of all our masters at Chatillon there is none of whom 
 Baudouin and I retain such pleasant recollections." 
 
 " Did not he and your friend Baudouin correspond ? " 
 my mother asked. 
 
 " Yes, for a year or two. I think he was fonder of 
 Baudouin than he was of me. M. Pellerin always said he 
 
 /^CSf^K 
 
 UNIVERSITY; 
 
22 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 had the soul of an artist, and he wrote him five or six 
 times after leaving the lyce*e. But he was engrossed in 
 his pursuits ; he departed for the East shortly after- 
 ward, and we have heard nothing of him for this long 
 time." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 TO MONSIEUR JACQUES BAUDOUIN, AT BOURGAS, NEAR 
 CHATILLON-SUR-LEZE. 
 
 " "X/HES, my dear Baudouin, here I am at Paris, an inmate 
 A of the Lycee Montaigne, and very sorry, I assure you, 
 that you and I are no longer classmates, as we were to our 
 mutual pleasure and advantage during so many long years. 
 The Lycee Montaigne, as you are perhaps aware, occupies 
 buildings recently erected in the quarter of the Champs 
 Elysees. ( It appears that for a long time the residents of 
 Passy, Neuilly, and western Paris generally (not forgetting 
 Billancourt), had been complaining that all the lycees 
 were crowded together, in two or three quarters, and finally 
 the Board of Education determined to rectify the matter. 
 The proof of the wisdom of their action is that the Lycee 
 Montaigne, although only completed a short time since, 
 has already more than nine hundred boarders and eleven 
 hundred day scholars. 
 
 " That is equivalent to saying that ours is not a little toy 
 college like that of Chatillon, and that your old friend, a 
 single unit in a total almost as large as that of a regiment 
 of infantry, sometimes feels a little lost in the midst of 
 such an aggregation of humanity. 
 
 I* Picture to yourself, on one side of the Rue de Chaillot, 
 a lofty, brand-new, staringly white fagade, ornamented 
 with laurel wreaths carved in relief, and pierced with tall 
 
24 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 windows over three enormous carriage entrances. One of 
 these entrances is for the principal, the proctor, and the 
 other dignitaries who have lodgings in the edifice ; another, 
 to the right, is reserved for the steward's department, and 
 the administrative service ; the third, to the left, is used by 
 the professors and the students. 
 
 " Enter that door with me. We find ourselves in a 
 spacious vestibule, shut off in its entire breadth by a high, 
 wrought iron railing, which, notwithstanding its ornate 
 workmanship, is none the less a railing. Beyond this bar- 
 rier extends a great rectangular courtyard, surrounded with 
 a colonnade ; it is the reviewing ground. To right and left 
 of the vestibule, two great marble staircases, conducting, 
 one to the parlor and thence to the office and reception- 
 rooms of the principal, the other to the recitation-rooms. 
 The classes are domiciled in another building, situated in 
 the rear of the one I am attempting to describe to you, and 
 accessible to the day scholars by special doors opening on a 
 side street. 
 
 /"I would say here that there are no little boys at the 
 Lycee Montaigne; candidates for admission enter the 
 intermediate or the upper forms. Primary scholars are all 
 sent to a small college instituted expressly for them out in 
 the fields, at the foot of Mount Valerien, and not far from 
 the village of Nanterre. But to come back to the vesti- 
 bule : 
 
 " Here to the left is the lodge, no ! we won't say that ; 
 it is not sufficiently respectful, say the office, the study, 
 the salon of M. le Concierge. Ah, my dear Baudouin, if 
 Father Barbotte, our old porter at Chatillon, could see these 
 quarters once ! His nose would come down on his mus- 
 tache until it became a nose of nearly normal size. Aubus- 
 son carpets, mirrors, a great mahogany secretary, fauteuils 
 
THE OFFICE, THE STUDY, THE PARLOUR OF M. LE 
 
TO MONSIEUR JACQUES BAUDOUIN. 2/ 
 
 in green velvet, and in the midst of all this splendour a tall, 
 portly gentleman, solemn as a notary, and whose conde- 
 scending politeness gives you an impression of your utter 
 nothingness. Take my word for it, he would never stoop 
 to sell tarts and apples to his subjects ! It is as much as 
 ever if he deigns to honour them with a patronizing look 
 as they pass by. You will think I am romancing, but I 
 assure you it is all quite true. He has a clerk. 
 
 " A clerk who is always seated at a mahogany desk 
 and keeps a record of the exits and entrances for His 
 Excellency, Monseigneur le Concierge. 
 
 " ' I don't see anything so very extraordinary in that,' 
 he said one day to somebody who had innocently expressed 
 his astonishment, the keeper of the Conciergerie has a 
 clerk.' 
 
 " We will ascend the left-hand staircase, and follow this 
 long corridor, which brings us to Division No. i. It is 
 here that your humble servant roosts, in company with 
 some thirty other rhetoricians. As at Chatillon, we are 
 divided into freshmen and veterans, according as we have 
 or have not accomplished a first year in rhetoric. You 
 will probably be surprised to learn that, although I am a 
 bachelor and ex-rhetorician of the Lycee of Chatillon, I am 
 classed among the freshmen. That is because I am not 
 eighteen yet, which allows me to compete at the general 
 examination as a freshman, and it is customary to take 
 advantage of that privilege. 
 
 " And it is well, too, that this state of affairs exists, for 
 without it I fear my chances would be mighty slim at that 
 same examination. 
 
 " My poor Baudouin ! what number do you suppose was 
 awarded me in Latin Composition, no longer ago than day 
 before yesterday ? Seventeen ! ' What a fall was there, 
 
28 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 my countrymen ! ' Flattering for Chatillon-sur-Leze, is n't 
 it ? I, who was considered a prodigy on the Verumenim- 
 vero and the Quandoquidem ! I, who ever since the day 
 when Parmentier, on his admission to the Naval Academy, 
 belied all prognostics as to his literary future, was regarded 
 as the favourite of our departmental muses. Seventeenth 
 at Paris ! where there are ten other lycee, that is to say 
 one hundred and seventieth on a general list ; there you 
 have the melancholy truth. 
 
 " It is true that I stand eighth among the freshmen, but 
 the subserviency, the artful combinations, the calculations 
 of age that were required to attain that magnificent re- 
 sult ! I am obliged to confess to you, dear friend, that I 
 am a little discouraged. You see I was very well pleased 
 with my lucubration, an address of welcome by the Sen- 
 ator Tertius Quirinus Mala to Scipio Africanus. When 
 the class was dismissed I think I would not have traded 
 my chances, so certain was I of bearing off first honours, 
 for an absolute assurance of being second. And then the 
 complimentary remarks with which M. Auger seasoned his 
 verdict ! 
 
 " < M. Besnard. Latin Composition, correct enough in 
 a grammatical point of view,' he said, ' but dull and prosy 
 in style, abounding in Gallicisms, and perfectly common- 
 place.' 
 
 " That was the slap in the face I received. Pleasant, 
 was n't it ? to hear oneself handled in that manner 
 before seventy -five young cubs, all predisposed to look 
 on a fellow as a numskull if he happens to hail from 
 Grenoble or Chatillon ! But I will have my revenge, see 
 if I don't ! 
 
 " One consolation was that I was not the only one to 
 flunk, as they call it here. Almost every one of my com- 
 
UJNlv 
 
 TO MONSIEUR JACQUES BAUDOUIN. 29 
 
 rades got his lick with the wrong side of the tongue. A 
 terrible man is he, that M. Auger ! Tall, thin, pale, with 
 a gray bristling mustache like a half-pay cavalry colonel's, 
 hair cut en brosse, extremely black eyebrows, and a red 
 rosette in his buttonhole. He does not condescend to 
 put on his academic gown, but simply throws it across the 
 arm of his chair, for appearance's sake. A word from him 
 in his big deep voice cuts you in two. You should see 
 how silent and attentive everybody is in his class, and 
 how all move as if at the tap of the drum. And yet he 
 has never in his life inflicted punishment. All is that if a 
 student undertakes to play pranks in his room, he merely 
 sends him before the proctor with an intimation that his 
 presence has ceased to be desirable. Such, at least, is the 
 tradition. 
 
 " One thing certain is that he can't be beat in expound- 
 ing Tacitus. You have no idea, my dear Baudouin, of all 
 he discovers in a phrase, a line, a word. We used to think 
 that M. Schilstz had some acquaintance with Tacitus, 
 did n't we ? Well, his commentaries amount to just nothing 
 at all beside M. Auger's. The man must have all the liv- 
 ing languages at his finger ends, to say nothing of Greek, 
 Hebrew, Sanskrit, the origin of language, and all the rest 
 of it. Sometimes he will hold forth for a whole hour on 
 a syllable, a root, and tell you such lots of curious and in- 
 teresting things, opening up entirely new horizons. It is 
 frightful, don't you know, to think of all one has to learn 
 when one has finished with college. I am beginning to 
 see that the first six or seven years are merely an intro- 
 duction to broader studies. Until now we have been 
 neither more nor less than children learning to read and 
 write ; we have been preparing ourselves by preliminary 
 exercises for what is, in fact, our real work. 
 
30 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " I cannot truthfully say that I am greatly pleased with 
 M. Auger. In spite of his bearish manner, it would be 
 impossible to find a better teacher. But if you look for 
 sympathy and tenderness there, you will not find it. His 
 most gracious compliment for the first in Latin Composi- 
 tion, a veteran named Dutheil, was : 
 
 " ' M. Dutheil. Theme pretty well worked up.' 
 
 " The old stagers say that that is as far as he ever 
 allows himself to go in commending an exercise. 
 
 " But here we ate at Division No. 2, to which I started 
 to introduce you. MfThere are some forty of us students in 
 there, seated at tw> rows of desks, the benches of which 
 have backs. I will say incidentally that those benches are 
 an improvement that might be adopted with advantage in 
 other colleges. Facing us, between the two windows, is a 
 great blackboard ; to the right is the customary bookcase, 
 to the left the chair of the usher. 
 
 " That individual is a man of an entirely different 
 stripe from M. Pellerin. His name is Valadier, I am 
 told. He is a little, stocky, bald, brown-faced man, with 
 eyes that glow like living coals in their cavernous orbits; 
 prominent cheek-bones, a yellow complexion, and a tem- 
 perament to correspond, namely, of the most taciturn. 
 During the eight days that I have sat under his ferule, I 
 have not heard him speak twenty words. For the vari- 
 ous exercises of the day, such as recitations, recreation, 
 dismissal, and so forth, he has invented a code of signals, 
 transmitted by a certain number of taps with his pen- 
 holder, on the arm of his chair, which relieve him of the 
 necessity of opening his lips. 1 That may appear strange 
 at first, but one quickly comes TO understand this language 
 as readily as the telegraph-operator reads off the message 
 that is passing over the wires by the clicking of his instru- 
 
TO MONSIE UR JA CQ UES BA UD O UIN. 3 I 
 
 ment. M. Valadier has, in particular, a way of command- 
 ing silence! That never fails of its effect, just three 
 little sharp taps of the penholder. 
 
 " It would not surprise me if this system were the re- 
 sult of a profound Machiaiiellipm. He has made the dis- 
 covery that big boys like us prefer to be called to order 
 mechanically, so to speak, rather than be accosted by name. 
 Be that as it may, the result is a success. There is a sort 
 of tacit agreement between the master and us, to leave 
 one another in peace. l|Y^ou will understand why silence 
 is a necessity to M. Valadier, when I tell you that he is 
 a poet, and spends his time in fabricating bouts-rimes. 
 
 " I have this information from one of my new comrades, 
 a young man named Chavasse, who professes the most se- 
 rene disdain for these poetic recreations. He is a fat, red- 
 faced, apple-cheeked boy, with china-blue eyes, that only 
 light up in the refectory, and an inferior maxillary of 
 prodigious development. Pp you remember in the trea- 
 tise on natural history that we studied a year ago, the pic- 
 ture representing the jaw of a carnivorous as compared 
 with that of a herbivorous animal ? Well, I never look at 
 Chavasse but I think of that memorable example, and tell 
 myselLthat, beside him, I must have the air of a vegeta- 
 rian, v^ou will scarce believe me when I tell you that th'e 
 wretched boy, only eighteen, already has a paunch. 
 
 " Chavasse is building out in front," says, with a grave 
 face, Thomereau, the funny man of the class. 
 
 " There is another, with whom you would not be likely 
 to fall in love, Thomereau. Imagine, my dear Baudouin, 
 a sort of bandylegged turnspit, with a big head, a mouth 
 cleft from ear to ear, a trumpet of a nose, and hair always 
 in disorder, whose self-appointed mission here on earth is 
 to make his neighbours laugh. He considers all means 
 
32 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 fair to attain that glorious end ; quips, cranks, and quid- 
 dities of every kind, plays on words, and puns particu- 
 larly puns. He gets them off at every moment, and on 
 the slightest provocation, sometimes good, but much 
 oftener bad, according to the decision of the Fates. 
 
 " The happiest effort of his life, as he himself confesses 
 to me, was one that he achieved day before yesterday, in 
 M. Auger's room. Thomereau, as usual, was gaping at 
 the ceiling, while the professor was explaining an ode of 
 Horace. 
 
 "' Monsieur Thomereau,' said the professor, 'you are 
 not following the text, and I see that you are thinking of 
 something entirely different.' 
 
 " ' Beg pardon, m'sieu,' replied my joker, with a voice 
 like the quack of a duck, *je pense, done je suts ! if Des- 
 cartes is to be believed, t 
 
 " And everybody laughed, even M. Auger. 
 
 "As a rule, however, he is content to harass us with 
 frightful ready-made puns, of which he always keeps a 
 stock on hand to meet emergencies. 
 
 **Dutheil, whom I mentioned as the leader of the class, 
 is a boy of quite a different kind, a sober, serious, level- 
 headed fellow, whom one feels can always be depended 
 on, somewhat after your style. 
 
 " You are doubtless aware that our friend Verschuren, 
 of Chatillon, is here at the Lycee Montaigne with me. 
 He is even in my division, although he is preparing for 
 Saint-Cyr, and belongs to the category here designated 
 as Cornichons. The Saint - Cyrians' quarters are over- 
 crowded, it appears ; six of them have been lodged with us. 
 
 * The pun hinges on the words je JM, which mean indifferently, / am 
 or / follow. " I think, therefore I am," Descartes axiom ; " I think, 
 therefore I follow," Chavasse's emendation. 
 
TO MONSIEUR JACQUES BAUDOUIN. 33 
 
 We have also four Taupius, or candidates for the Polytech- 
 nique, which contributes to shed no little distinction on 
 Division No. I, as you may well believe. 
 
 " What shall I say of the regulations of the Lycee ? 
 The regime is exactly the same as at Chatillon. Here, as 
 there, our movements are regulated by the beat of the 
 drum. The bill of fare is also varied from day to day 
 in a similar manner. The hours of study and recreation 
 are the same. Still, there is a difference that is worthy 
 of being noted, we are at liberty to go out on Sundays, 
 and on Thursdays, as well upon a written request of the 
 parents, instead of having leave only once a month as in 
 the province. 
 
 " Adieu. Write soon, and let your letter be a good long 
 one. I am dying to hear from you, what you are doing, 
 what you are going to do. ALBERT BESNARD. 
 
 \ 
 " P. S. I had almost forgotten to tell you there is a 
 
 splendid article by M. Pellerin in the current number of 
 the Revue des Deux Monde s. Papa promises he will send 
 it to you." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 MY FRIEND MOLECULE. A MISPRIZED POET. LECA- 
 
 CHEY SHOWS HIS COLOURS. TRONC-DE-CONE. 
 
 ON re-reading Baudouin's letter, which he had pre- 
 served and was so obliging as to lend me when I 
 intimated to him that I was about to write my memoirs, 
 I perceive, not without confusion, that there is not a word 
 in it of Molecule. 
 
 That one of my comrades who answered to this mel- 
 lifluous surname, but whose real name was Chapuis, was, 
 nevertheless, one of the notabilities of the class, although 
 his distinction certainly was not due to the number of his 
 inches. For six days he and I had been almost insepa- 
 rable. But, doubtless, I had feared to excite Baudouin's 
 jealousy, who was always a little sensitive on such matters, 
 and that accounts for my silence in regard to my new 
 friend. 
 
 On the very first day of my appearance at the lycee, 
 Molecule had revealed himself to me in the most elevated 
 aspect intellectually, I mean that it is given the 
 human race to assume : that of the poet, namely. And 
 not a Latin poet, either, as one might suppose and as 
 would have been perfectly natural at college, but an 
 unmistakable, full-fledged poet in the French language. 
 
 And what was more, it was in my honour that he had 
 straddled Pegasus. 
 
MY FRIEND MOLECULE, 35 
 
 It happened in the class-room. I was absorbed in the 
 fabrication of my first Latin composition, which I was 
 desirous should not be below the level of my Chatillonian 
 reputation, when I received, through the medium of my 
 neighbor, Chavasse, an envelope bearing my address, 
 which I tore open with trembling fingers. 
 
 The envelope contained a sheet of white paper, and 
 exactly in the middle of the sheet, in small and beautiful 
 chirography, was a sonnet dedicated to Albert Besnard. 
 What would I give to-day had I preserved that poem, 
 the only one I ever inspired in my life, so that I might be 
 able to submit it to posterity ! But, alas ! those verses, 
 like so many others that have gone before and come after, 
 have disappeared from mortal ken. All I can state posi- 
 tively is that they welcomed me to the Lycee Montaigne 
 with a warmth and enthusiasm that went straight to my 
 heart. They were signed Lfo Chapuis. 
 
 You may imagine the eagerness with which, when the 
 noon recess came, I inquired for information about 
 Chapuis. 
 
 "Chapuis?" replied the first boy whom I accosted; 
 "there he is, that little whiffet over yonder Chapuis, 
 alias Molecule ! " 
 
 He was so small and insignificant that one would have 
 taken him for a boy eleven years old rather than for a 
 student of rhetoric. There was the dawning promise of 
 a beard, and his alert black eyes, pointed features, and hair 
 plastered closely to his head gave him something of the 
 appearance of a mouse. 
 
 I can see him now, smiling at me in a friendly way and 
 displaying a row of white teeth as I stepped toward him. 
 
 " Was it you who sent me those verses ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it is my custom to extend a greeting to all new- 
 
 ^- >. 
 
 f OF THE ' \ 
 
 (UNIVERSITY) 
 
 V .. OF- S 
 
36 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 comers, by way of keeping my hand in. How were you 
 pleased with my sonnet ? " 
 
 " Much obliged, on behalf of all newcomers they must 
 be immensely gratified. Your verses are very pretty." 
 
 " Really ? " said the little man, his face radiant with 
 smiles. "You are not making fun of me?" 
 
 " No ; 'pon my word, I assure you your sonnet is 
 excellent." 
 
 He came up to me, immediately, with a confidential air. 
 
 " I see that you are a person of taste. Do you write 
 verses ? " 
 
 " No ; I have never attempted it." 
 
 "Ah ! perhaps you are writing a novel, then ? " 
 
 "Nor that, either." 
 
 " I have it ! You are working for the theatre." 
 
 Molecule spoke with entire sincerity. He apparently 
 could not conceive for a moment that I had no literary 
 sins upon my conscience. I did not undeceive him, owing 
 to my ridiculous false shame. 
 
 "A comedy, no doubt?" he continued. "No? A 
 tragedy, then ? Come, I see what the matter is you 
 are close -mouthed ; you don't want to disclose your sub- 
 ject. You need have no fear of me, though ; when you 
 come to know me better you won't hesitate to give me 
 your confidence. If you like, I will write the couplets for 
 your vaudeville. Poetry is my strong point, you see." 
 
 Alas ! this fact was soon to be practically demonstrated 
 to me. From this time forth not a day passed that I 
 was not called on to read some poetic manifestation of 
 Chapuis's inexhaustible genius. Epistles, odes, harmonies, 
 symphonies, elegies, trilogies, satires, idyls, epigrams, 
 ballads, triolets, virelays, all flowed with equal facility 
 from his teeming brain. From morning till night he was 
 
MY FRIEND MOLECULE. 37 
 
 manufacturing rhymes, which, willy - nilly, one must read 
 and admire with him. It was not always amusing, al- 
 though there were times when the comic element was not 
 altogether wanting. 
 
 For instance, he was accustomed to inveigh in the most 
 violent terms against the vices of his contemporaries, and 
 to abandon himself metaphorically to the gloomiest mis- 
 anthropy, although under ordinary circumstances he was 
 the jolliest and pleasantest of companions. 
 
 I did not fail to banter him now and then on this slight 
 inconsistency, but on the whole he had no reason to find 
 fault with my criticisms, and such was the progress I 
 made in his esteem that at the end of two or three days 
 he decided to open his heart to me. 
 
 " Listen," he said ; " I have a great secret to impart to 
 you. I have no need to caution you to observe the most 
 perfect silence ; you yourself will see the necessity of it." 
 
 Of course this exordium aroused my curiosity to the 
 highest pitch. 
 
 " Know, then, the mystery of my life," Molecule con- 
 tinued, trying to give a tone of tragedy to his little piping 
 voice : " I am writing an epic poem ! " 
 
 " Really and truly?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear fellow ; or, rather, I should say the epic 
 poem the epic that is wanting to complete the glories 
 of France. I have already composed five cantos out of 
 twenty-four. You shall give me your opinion of it." 
 
 Molecule spoke with such conviction that I never even 
 thought of laughing. His assurance astounded me. He 
 went on : 
 
 "By the way, I can tell you what its subject is, but 
 promise me first not to divulge it to any one. Have I 
 your word ? " 
 
38 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 I nodded affirmatively. 
 
 " It is no joking matter, you understand twenty thou- 
 sand lines at the very least. But it is going on swim- 
 mingly. I have confidence in you ; my subject is 
 Tobacco! That is what you might call an idea, hey? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I don't deny that it is an idea, but for an epic 
 poem " 
 
 " It is splendid, my dear fellow, splendid ! You shall 
 see what I have done. And speaking of tobacco, may I 
 offer you a pinch ? " 
 
 The wretched youth thrust his hand into his pocket, 
 and drawing forth a cheap wooden snuff-box, extended it, 
 fraternally, to me. 
 
 " What ! are you a snuff-taker ? " I inquired with surprise. 
 
 " Of course I am, and a smoker, too, if you have no 
 objections." 
 
 I was literally horror-struck. 
 
 "Ah!" I cried, "if that is the case I am not sur- 
 prised" 
 
 Just then the sound of the drum luckily cut short my 
 remark, for my reflection was not of a nature to greatly 
 please poor Molecule. What was it at which I was not 
 surprised ? That he was of such diminutive proportions. 
 For it is an acknowledged fact that the use of tobacco in 
 early life arrests physical development, as my father had 
 repeatedly warned me. 
 
 Such was my new comrade, whom I had refrained from 
 mentioning in my letter to my best friend, Jacques Bau- 
 douin. 
 
 Neither had I said anything to him of Lecachey, although 
 I had already made his acquaintance previous to meeting 
 him at the fencing school. It was during the lecture on 
 history that he was revealed to me. 
 
MY SUBJECT IS TOBACCO ! ' " 
 
MY FRIEND MOLECULE. 41 
 
 M. Aveline, who presided in this department, certainly 
 could not be accused of fetichism toward his specialty. 
 
 " History," he was accustomed to say to us, " can only 
 be considered as the more or less truthful rendering of a 
 text of which the real significance is known to no one. 
 Therefore, gentlemen, I shall not attempt to explain the 
 events which constitute part of our course when you are 
 liable to see my explanations controverted to-morrow by 
 superior authority. I shall confine myself to giving you 
 a certain number of dates and historical landmarks, indi- 
 cating to you the principal writers who have treated of 
 these occurrences. You will study them closely, and on 
 each event will form that opinion which, after mature 
 reflection, seems to you most judicious." 
 
 That said, M. Aveline would cast a sharp look at us 
 through the gold-bowed spectacles that surmounted his 
 long, thin nose, read off a list of a score or so of names 
 and dates, and wind up by giving us the titles of half a 
 dozen authorities in which we were sure to find the most 
 contradictory opinions. 
 
 " You will each of you select within these limits the 
 subject that you desire to treat in writing for the next 
 lesson," he added. " All I ask of you is to let me have 
 your individual judgment in your own language, not re- 
 peating parrot-like the words of your authors. Now, and 
 for this day only, we will pass on to other exercises." 
 
 This manner of hearing a recitation in history had 
 already excited my wonder not a little. What completed 
 my bewilderment was to see M. Aveline take a volume 
 from his chair, open it at a place indicated by a folded 
 paper between the leaves, and say : 
 
 " I will read you a few pages of Saint-Real's ' Conspiracy 
 of the Spaniards against Venice.' He is an excellent model 
 
42 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the narrative style, and is not as popular as he should 
 be in our times." 
 
 M. Aveline was a good reader, there was no denying 
 that. But what a strange way of teaching history ! 
 
 "All the same, for the last four years one of his pupils 
 has regularly carried off the prize at the examination," said 
 my neighbour on the left, as if in reply to my thought. 
 
 Naturally enough I turned and looked at him. He was 
 a day scholar, a handsome little gentleman, elegantly 
 dressed in a suit that it was plain came from the shop of a 
 fashionable tailor ; he carried his perfumed handkerchief in 
 his sleeve, wore a monocle cocked in his eye, and his air 
 generally was one of well-bred assurance and superiority. 
 There was no sign of text-book or note-book before him on 
 the table ; nothing but a pair of spotless uncreased gloves, 
 a resplendent silk hat with a white satin lining, and a little 
 whalebone switch topped with a silver handle. 
 
 " He is a professor after my own heart," he continued, 
 in an undertone. " He is not eternally bothering a body 
 with tiresome questions." 
 
 I was interested in the reading, so that a glance was the 
 only reply I vouchsafed my neighbour. Not in the least 
 disconcerted, however : 
 
 " Were you at the Fontainebleau races last Sunday ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " No ; I have not been long in Paris," I replied, apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 " You missed the best meet of the season a splendid 
 field. I had laid my money on Spavento at 4^2 ; he was 
 the favourite, you know. I thought I had a sure thing, 
 but alas ! " 
 
 Here the professor ceased reading. 
 
 " Monsieur Lecachey," he said, looking in our direction, 
 

 FRIEND MOLECULE, 43 
 
 " I will not ask you not to talk in class, it would doubtless 
 be requiring too much of you ; I will only request you not 
 to talk so loud." 
 
 Lecachey ! the name reminded me of what my father 
 had said to me concerning his banker's son. So that was 
 the scion of the famous firm in the Faubourg Saint-Honore, 
 and my prospective companion in the fencing school. I 
 looked at him with an increase of interest which he did 
 not fail to notice. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " he asked, with a look of un- 
 easiness. " I haven't inked my nose, have I ? " 
 
 " Not? a bit," I replied, with a laugh. "What made me 
 prick up my ears was your name ; my father told me that 
 he has business relations with your father, and that you 
 and I are to be comrades at the fencing school." 
 
 " Ah ! then you are Besnard ? I have heard 
 
 " Monsieur Lecachey, I see you are determined not to 
 modulate that voice of yours ! " here spoke up M. Aveline. 
 
 This time we held our tongues and the reading came to 
 an end without further incident. 
 
 " Well, then, we shall meet again this evening, I sup- 
 pose ? " Lecachey said to me when the drum beat. 
 
 He shook hands with me, carefully adjusted his glossy 
 hat on his head, took his gloves and little cane, and 
 marched off in his glory. Why should I attempt to 
 conceal it ? Lecachey had produced a profound impre$- 
 sion on me. Such elegance, coolness, and easy grace con- 
 fused me. How could he receive M. Aveline's rebukes 
 with such unconcern, and be so profoundly versed in 
 the dark mysteries of the turf ? And that coat those 
 trousers that handkerchief that monocle ! 
 
 He completed his conquest of me at the fencing school, 
 where M. Goudouneix, formerly a regimental instructor in 
 
44 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 the use of the foils, presently began to initiate us into 
 the mysteries of his art. 
 
 There was more reason for the admiration which M. 
 Desbans, our mathematical professor, inspired in me. I 
 was deeply attached to him, and was already perfectly 
 reconciled with my father's happy thought in selecting 
 him to be my tutor. 
 
 Tronc-de-C6ne, as the entire school called him, without 
 his knowing it, was simply admirable as a professor. I 
 never met any one who possessed in the same degree as 
 he the gift of simplifying the most intricate questions, of 
 throwing light into dark corners and dispelling difficulties 
 as the wind carries off a puff of smoke. His language was 
 sober, clear, correct, effective as a syllogism, and yet ele- 
 gant by reason of its precision. You should have seen 
 him at the blackboard, tracing faultless circles with one 
 motion of his sure hand, building up great edifices of 
 figures, marshalling in serried battalions his wonderful 
 equations ! No artist devoted to his art could exhibit more 
 conscientiousness than he would do in demonstrating the 
 most elementary theorem. In cases of more difficulty he 
 was not satisfied to have the demonstration satisfactory ; 
 he was determined it should be decisive, crushing, over- 
 whelming. The impression produced on us at times when 
 he was struggling with some abstruse problem was that of a 
 hand to hand conflict between Titans. It seemed as if we 
 could see him hurl his adversary to the ground, kneel on 
 its chest and throttle it until it was forced to acknowledge 
 itself vanquished. I often wonder, when I think of it, how 
 any one could have him as professor and not be enamoured 
 of mathematics. 
 
 Such, nevertheless, was the ruling obliquity of the class 
 in rhetoric, under pretence that we belonged to the 
 
MY FRIEND MOLECULE. 45 
 
 section of letters and that our scientific ration was of the 
 slenderest, it was considered necessary to good form to 
 slight this branch of study. Our tasks were performed per- 
 functorily, " under the leg ; " the work at the blackboard 
 was bungled shamefully. Those who were strongest in 
 Greek and Latin were most hardened in this respect, 
 and I very well remember that Dutheil himself foolishly 
 boasted of his slight acquaintance with the family of X's. 
 
 M. Desbans, like all the professors of the section of 
 sciences, was excused from wearing the academic gown ; 
 because of the immoderate use he made of the chalk from 
 morning until night, he dressed habitually in light colors. 
 Add to that a smooth shaven chin, hair of a pepper and 
 salt hue, to correspond with his clothes, cheeks as red as 
 love-apples, and bright handsome eyes, a little inclined to 
 rove, as becomes a man whose thoughts are perpetually 
 wandering in space. 
 
 His absent-mindedness was naturally the occasion of a 
 host of small and more or less ingenious mystifications 
 which his pupils, and sometimes even his younger col- 
 leagues, were pleased to visit on him. One of the most 
 common of these pleasantries consisted in obliterating, 
 under his very nose and without his perceiving it, one of 
 the letters with which he had marked his diagram on the 
 blackboard. With perfect composure he would replace 
 the missing sign, perhaps only to find it missing again a 
 moment later. Scarcely a week passed that this vener- 
 able jest was not repeated. 
 
 Sometimes, however, the boys were unable to restrain 
 their merriment and M. Desbans was apprised of what 
 was going on. Then the slumbering lion in him woke. 
 
 He proceeded to what he called the tracing of the diag- 
 onal, a strange manoeuvre, practised by no one but 
 
46 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 himself, which consisted in drawing an imaginary line 
 from the ertd of one bench to the opposite extremity of 
 another bench, after which he noted the names of those 
 students who chanced to be beneath the line for the pur- 
 pose of visiting on them the penalties made and provided 
 in such cases. It was one way of fixing the responsibility. 
 
 It was ludicrous to see the dodging of the unlucky ones 
 to avoid being caught under the fatal line. But it availed 
 them not. Tronc-de-C6ne had accurately counted the 
 number of his victims ; he was inexorable in demanding 
 his full tale, and the list of the proscribed was transmitted 
 to the proctor without delay. 
 
 Not that he was influenced by the slightest feeling of 
 revengefulness. He was too kind for that, and I believe 
 that if he had listened to the promptings of his heart he 
 would have much preferred to laugh with us over his in- 
 curable defect ; but he considered it his duty to be strict 
 when the occasion demanded it, and was not the man to 
 tamper with his duty, however unpleasant it might be. 
 Dear M. Desbans ! a single hour at the blackboard alone, 
 in his company, taught me to appreciate at its real worth 
 his perfect uprightness, his childlike candour reinforced 
 by the most unerring judgment and a mathematical genius 
 that was truly wonderful. 
 
 After that I should have regarded it as little less than 
 criminal to participate in the tricks that were played on 
 him. I was often forced, however, contrary to my inclina- 
 tion, to be a passive spectator of performances which, 
 while harmless in themselves, no doubt, were yet to be 
 regretted as casting ridicule on a distinguished savant and 
 worthy man. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TO MONSIEUR ALBERT BESNARD, AT THE LYCEE MON- 
 TAIGNE, PARIS. 
 
 ask me, my dear Parisian, what I am doing at 
 Bourgas. Eh, parblen ! I chafe and fume all day 
 long ; that 's what I do. I chafe because I have finished 
 my education without reflecting that it is only a beginning, 
 and that to make a long journey for the sake of arriving 
 nowhere is a useless and absurd proceeding. I chafe 
 because I am a sort of gentleman and can repeat a number 
 of lines of the Georgics, and at the same time am unable 
 to be of any assistance to my poor mother, who is ruining 
 her health in trying to run our little farm. I chafe 
 because I have a bachelor's degree in my pocket, and not 
 the ghost of a trade or calling at my finger ends. I chafe 
 because I am compelled to eat a bread that it would 
 trouble me to earn. 
 
 "My poor Albert, how I congratulate you on having 
 none of those cares to worry you ! How lucky you are 
 that for a year or two you have only to learn your lessons 
 and perform your tasks, then enter the law school, after 
 which you will slip into the comfortable leather - covered 
 armchair that is awaiting you in a stock-broker's office ! 
 That is the future that your excellent father has marked 
 out for you, is it not ? And what better can you do than 
 follow the beaten highway that his loving-kindness has 
 prepared for you ? 
 
48 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "As regards birth and wealth, my dear friend, I am a 
 nullity ; I am but the very ordinary offspring of a small 
 farmer. I need to make for myself, and that immediately 
 and without being the cause of further expense, a decent 
 and adequate subsistence. How am I to do it and what 
 course am I to adopt ? I have been reflecting on the 
 problem night and day for months, and am no nearer a 
 solution now than in the beginning. Would it not be 
 better for me if I could lend a hand in the work that is 
 going on upon the farm ? 
 
 " And yet, it is a fine thing to have gone through 
 college and made acquaintance with literature and science. 
 When I think of the matter calmly, I can find nothing but 
 gratitude in my heart for those who conferred on me that 
 inestimable boon. 
 
 " Mamma and I had a grand pow-wow on this subject 
 yesterday. You know how dearly she loves me and how 
 she is ready to strain every nerve to start me in a career 
 of my selection. What did she do but propose to pack 
 me off to Paris, to join you at the Lycee Montaigne and 
 share your studies with you ! But I knew that such an 
 effort would mean ruin for her, and I refused with what 
 bitter regret I need not say. 
 
 " After a long and full discussion of the matter, we 
 arrived at this decision : I am to stay here with her until 
 the coming December and deliberate maturely on what is 
 best for me to do. Then, my resolution once formed, I 
 shall stick to it undeviatingly. It is more than likely that 
 my decision will be for the military career. In that case 
 I should enlist for two years in a line regiment, to give 
 me an opportunity to prepare myself at leisure for the 
 examination at Saint - Cyr without putting mamma to 
 more expense. You know that was what good old Captain 
 
TO MONSIEUR ALBERT BESNARD. 49 
 
 Biradent, our professor of gymnastics at the Lyce"e of 
 Chatillon, advised me to do. He always declared that 
 I would make an excellent major of chasseurs a pied. I 
 don't feel quite as sure of that as he did ; however, if my 
 choice falls in that direction, I shall try to do my 
 best. 
 
 " In the meantime, while waiting to know my fate, I sit 
 for hours at a stretch and contemplate the form of things, 
 studying the movements, the lines, the outline and per- 
 spective of animals and men ; I cannot conceive how a 
 man blessed with a pair of eyes could ever tire of using 
 them. That might with considerable justice be called 
 loafing, but how shall I express my meaning ? the 
 occupation seems to teach me something ; this education 
 of my eyes constitutes for me a study which interests me 
 more than I care to have it do, and I reproach myself for 
 it because it is without definite object. Outside of that, 
 when I tell myself that I ought to be doing something, do 
 you know what I turn my hand to ? I go fishing ; I take 
 magnificent carp in the Leze. I should like to hunt, but 
 if I were to take out a permit I should seem to be treating 
 myself to a luxury to which I had no right ; I should be 
 obliged to ask mamma for money to pay for the privilege, 
 purchase a gun, and feed a great dog, and all that is more 
 than she can afford. 
 
 " And, speaking of Captain Biradent, do you know that 
 I miss him dreadfully, him, his gymnasium, and his 
 sound advice ? 
 
 "'I have made myself a trapeze ; the blacksmith who 
 comes every other day to set our plowshares managed 
 to hammer out a pair of rings that answer fairly well. 
 But my old-time zest is gone. You have no idea how 
 monotonous those exercises become when you have no one 
 
 Of THE 
 
50 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 to share them with you. Emulation is the life and soul 
 of gymnastics. 
 
 ' " I wonder if you could ever guess what is my favourite 
 exercise just at the present time ! It is felling great 
 forest trees with an axe. A rather expensive amusement, 
 you will say, and it is true that my humble means would 
 not admit of it ; I have no forests, no trees, and it is as 
 much as ever if I own an axe. But my lucky star some 
 time since caused me to foregather with an extremely 
 affable and courteous young ranger, and it was while 
 walking with him in the wood 'of Gua and observing the 
 superb poses of the men as they laid low the magnificent 
 oaks that I was seized with the desire to try my hand at 
 the work. Since then, it has become a genuine passion 
 with me, a passion the more ridiculously inconsistent that, 
 as you are aware, no one more sincerely admires a beautiful 
 tree in its lusty glory than your humble servant. 
 
 " Possibly it may be a result of that very admiration, 
 but I love to pit my puny strength against one of those 
 giants of the forest. So long as it is condemned, since it 
 is doomed to fall in order to make way for other and more 
 valuable growths, give its neighbours light and air, or 
 afford space for the opening of a new road, why should it 
 not fall by my hand ? The labour develops my strength, 
 affords wholesome exercise for my muscles, and is in itself 
 an art. The giant is attacked near the ground, with well 
 calculated blows, at each of which a great wedge-shaped 
 chip is released. In the beginning, the woodsman may 
 slash away with vigour, but as the wound becomes deeper 
 and approaches the heart of the tree he has to proceed 
 more cautiously and give his blows a definite direction. 
 At last the entire enormous weight of trunk and branches 
 is supported solely by a slender pedicle only a few centi- 
 
" THE GIANT IS ATTACKED CLOSE TO THE GROUND." 
 
TO MONSIEUR ALBERT BESNARD. 53 
 
 metres in thickness. Then, due precautions having been 
 observed, and the bystanders directed to a place of safety, 
 a stout rope that has previously been made fast to the 
 upper branches is tautened, and the lordly giant comes 
 crashing to the ground. The shrubs and saplings in its 
 'path, small secondary lives whose fate is involved in that 
 great life, are beaten down. Sometimes, away up in the 
 summit, there is a bird's nest, but the young brood has 
 long since left its quarters, fortunately, and the little dwell- 
 ing is empty and deserted. The report of a cannon, the 
 roar of a whole battery of artillery, is as nothing compared 
 with the thundering crash of that fall. It is might, maj- 
 esty, grandeur surviving even in the moment of dissolu- 
 tion. You will tell me that when in the spring the little 
 birds return from their foreign trip they will vainly seek 
 their familiar oak and will be compelled to build them a 
 new house. Why should they not ? Is it so desirable 
 always to depend on the house of one's father's building ? 
 Is not the home provided by the labour of one's own hands 
 the best ? 
 
 " But I suppose you will say I have given no valid rea- 
 son why I find such pleasure in playing the part of lord 
 high executioner. Well, I will tell you ; the real reason is 
 emulation. The choppers employed by my friend, the 
 ranger, all have such splendidly developed arms and 
 shoulders that my first impulse was to draw them, my 
 second to see if I could not equal them. 
 
 " I think that I am in a fair way to attain my end. But, 
 apart from that, I have taken a liking to the occupation 
 for its own sake, and now I am proud to say that I think 
 I can fell a tree as handily as a professional wood-cutter. 
 
 " There is a calling all ready to my hand, you will say. 
 You need not laugh ; I have thought of it. But it would 
 
54 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 be a disappointment for my poor mamma, whose dreams 
 for me are all of wealth and glory. 
 
 " ' Was it for such an end as that that I sent you to 
 college ? ' she would be justified in saying to me. 
 
 " My friend, the ranger, advises me to enter the School 
 of Forestry. I should like that very much. Life in the 
 open air, under the lofty forest domes, in constant com- 
 munion with nature, would suit me exactly. But it is an 
 expensive career. In addition to the charge for board and 
 tuition at the school, there are c'ostly uniforms to be pro- 
 cured, which, together with other matters, put the project 
 beyond our reach. The entire expense would amount to 
 some ten or twelve thousand francs, and that is more than 
 we have to spare. Therefore, I must be thinking of some- 
 thing else, and that is what I am doing, night and day. 
 
 " Adieu, write me often and at length, as you did last 
 time, with lots of details. Let me know what you are 
 doing, share with me your more serious thoughts. Your 
 Parisians cannot all be such frivolous creatures as you 
 depict them. There is one thing in the world which I am 
 determined shall not grow rusty our friendship. 
 
 "JACQUES BAUDOUIN." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CAGNOTTE. A PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 AMONG Thomereau's intermittent manias, one of the 
 most deplorable was to circulate in the class-room 
 "questions," generally of a highly ridiculous nature, which 
 no one could answer and of which he alone had the solu- 
 tion. The answer of the problem was most frequently a 
 pun of venerable antiquity. 
 
 We used to laugh at these absurdities, but they often 
 trenched too much on valuable time, and the more studious 
 were ill-pleased to have their attention distracted by such 
 idle nonsense. 
 
 In the end public sentiment manifested itself in almost 
 unanimous protests, and one fine morning, Dutheil, upon 
 whom the buffoon's mania seemed to produce a particularly 
 aggravating effect, laid before us the following proposi- 
 tion : 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said to us as we came trooping out 
 into the courtyard at recess time, " it is becoming every 
 day more necessary to introduce reforms into the class, 
 for unless we do we may as well give up trying to do our 
 work. We might do worse than borrow from the Taupins 
 an expedient which they assert works excellently." 
 
 " A truce to preambles ! Give us the expedient ! " 
 
 " You are all aware of the thousand little annoyances 
 that owe their existence to our life in common, a heed- 
 
56 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 less fellow goes out and forgets to shut the door behind 
 him, another gets possession of a book in the library and 
 monopolizes it, a few will disturb a whole roomful of people 
 by their noisy conversation, a senseless ' question ' is 
 handed round from bench to bench in study hours and dis- 
 tracts our attention from our work. Thus it is that twenty 
 times a day occasions arise when we should all be glad if 
 it were in our power to put a stop to an abuse that 
 incommodes us, a trespass of some one on his neighbour's 
 comfort and liberty " 
 
 We were beginning to be puzzled by this exordium. 
 What was Dutheil driving at ? Our expectancy was voiced 
 in those isolated exclamations and indistinct murmurs that 
 the newspaper reports of parliamentary proceedings refer 
 to as " signs of interest in the galleries." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," pursued the orator, " those petty 
 annoyances that we are all acquainted with and from which 
 we all are sufferers, what is really their single and only 
 cause ? I will tell you, it is the absence of a code of 
 manners among us boys, a rigorous, inflexible code, in 
 which all offences are provided for and an adequate penalty 
 imposed for each delinquency - 
 
 Chorus of voices : " That's true ! " 
 
 "This is the conclusion, gentlemen, that was reached by 
 the eminently practical minds of our colleagues of the 
 Taupiniere. They have done what we should have done 
 long ago, drawn up a full and complete list of all the 
 small sins of which a member of the great scholastic fra- 
 ternity may render himself guilty, to the detriment of 
 good order and the public peace, and visited each pecca- 
 dillo with a fine of a few centimes 
 
 ( Here Dutheil drew from his pocket a sheet of paper 
 and consulted it.) 
 
THE CAGNOTTE. A PHILOSOPHER. $? 
 
 "Here are the rules and regulations of the Taupins," 
 he continued. " They are in full force, and our neighbours 
 find themselves the better for them. Laws that are self- 
 imposed are seldom questioned. In this remarkable doc- 
 ument, the following things are henceforth and forever 
 forbidden : 
 
 " ' First, to leave the door open, when it was previously 
 closed ; 
 
 " ' Secondly, to remain more than ten minutes at the 
 blackboard ; 
 
 " ' Thirdly, to leave the blackboard without having first 
 wiped out all chalk marks ; 
 
 " Fourthly, to neglect to replace the sponge ; 
 
 " ' Fifthly, no one shall sneeze, or blow his nose in a* 
 loud and boisterous manner ; 
 
 " < Sixthly, to appropriate to one's use for a longer pe- 
 riod than fifteen minutes the books of reference intended 
 for the public use ; 
 
 " Seventhly, sleeping is prohibited in the studies, and' 
 in the class-rooms ; 
 
 " ' Eighthly, no one shall disturb one or several com- 
 rades by idle and useless questions, whether oral or 
 written ; 
 
 " * Ninthly, it is forbidden to trouble the public order, 
 or call attention to oneself in an unseemly manner in 
 any of the rooms set apart for public use.' 
 
 " Such are the nine articles of the code promulgated by 
 the Taupins, and such is the general interest in securing 
 their observance that perfect quiet now reigns in their 
 quarters. Don't you think it might be well if we, too, 
 were to adopt so judicious a set of rules ? " 
 
 The proposition was received with very moderate en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
58 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Good ! " said a voice, "we have n't rules enough as it 
 is, it would seem that we must go to work and manufac- 
 ture a lot of others ! " 
 
 Dutheil stood his ground. 
 
 " I was looking for that objection, and you may be sure 
 it was thought of among the Taupins as well as here. 
 But the sanction given to the arrangement must not be 
 lost sight of, the question of the fines imposed for every 
 offence, and which are the point on which the whole 
 affair hinges. It is they that constitute the source of all 
 the pleasure." 
 
 " Is it a pleasure to pay fines ? " 
 
 " No, not to pay them, exactly, but to make others pay 
 them when they are detected transgressing." 
 
 This prospect appeared to stimulate a little the languid 
 interest of the audience. 
 
 "The product of those fines," Dutheil insidiously con- 
 tinued, "goes into a common fund, a cagnotte, and at the 
 end of the year this fund may be converted into books, 
 weapons of the chase, a boat, or whatever those who have 
 an interest in it may decide." 
 
 The idea appeared less preposterous now, and it was 
 clear that Dutheil had gained his cause. 
 
 " We might offer a prize for the encouragement of 
 French poetry," timidly suggested Molecule. 
 
 " Or endow a fund for purposes of travel and explora- 
 tion," proposed Verschuren. 
 
 "I have a better plan than that," cried Chavass^,*: "it 
 is to take the proceeds of the fines, and treat ourselves to 
 the biggest spread that was ever heard of ! " 
 
 Is it necessary to say that this suggestion met with an 
 overwhelming success ? It was the means, indeed, of car- 
 rying the day for Dutheil's proposition. 
 
THE CAGNOTTE.A PHILOSOPHER. 59 
 
 " Yes ! that 's it ! Chavasse has hit it ! Hurrah for 
 Chavasse and his stomach ! " were some of the cries that 
 rose on every side. 
 
 The author of the amendment, suddenly raised aloft on 
 a dozen shoulders, was, for a moment, in danger of mak- 
 ing a triumphal progress through the courtyard. 
 
 Dutheil was calm and self-possessed, though manifestly 
 well pleased with the success of his proposal. 
 
 " Gentlemen, there will be abundant time to decide how 
 the fines shall be employed. What we have to do first, is 
 to fix their amount. I propose ten centimes for each in- 
 fraction of the rules, and fifty centimes in case of a repe- 
 tition of the offence on the same day." 
 
 " That is not enough ! " shouted Chavasse, whose popu- 
 larity had evidently turned his head. "At that figure, 
 the best we could afford would be a dinner at the Palais- 
 Royal. If we are to have a first-class spread, such as I 
 have in mind, the fines must be made larger." 
 
 " If they should be made larger, they might prove bur- 
 densome in some cases. The best way to swell the fund 
 will be to maintain a strict surveillance, and see that each 
 offender contributes his share. Even at ten centimes, the 
 results obtained will be very gratifying. Among the 
 Taupins, the average is twenty infractions a day, which 
 gives two francs, and counting one second offence, two 
 francs, fifty centimes ; at the end of the year, even reduc- 
 ing the number of school days to 250, these figures pro- 
 duce a total of 625 francs. That is enough to provide a 
 luxurious banquet, even after setting aside a large sum 
 for charitable purposes, as I am sure we should all wish 
 
 to do." 
 
 
 
 "Good ! good ! Let 's adopt the Taupins' plan ! Vote ! 
 Vote!" 
 
60 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Very well, then, we will proceed to vote. All those 
 who are in favour of adopting the Taupins' arrangement 
 as it stands will raise their hand." 
 
 Every hand went up. 
 
 " Now, all who are opposed what, no opposition ? 
 Carried unanimously. Gentlemen, if it is your will, we 
 will nail the regulations to the door of the library and 
 from this time forth they will be rigidly enforced." 
 
 The famous regulations which were to restore to Divi- 
 sion No. i the era of peace and order did not produce 
 exactly that result on the first day. We all seemed ani- 
 mated with a desire to see how often we could break the 
 rules, the purpose being to incur a fine and swell the 
 fund. There were constant trips to the library to take 
 possession of the books, desk lids were violently slammed, 
 there was an epidemic of coughing, noses were boisterously 
 blown when there was no necessity 
 
 The total collections were enormous. There were no 
 less than sixty violations, and Dutheil, who had been 
 made treasurer, took in the handsome sum of five or six 
 francs, all in big copper sous. 
 
 But this excessive ardour cooled after a few days. Once 
 the nucleus of the fund was formed, no one thought of in- 
 creasing it, voluntarily, and every one was as careful, not to 
 incur a penalty himself as he was prompt to report the 
 least delinquency of his neighbour. Eternal vigilance was 
 the order of the day ; the surveillance was not relaxed for 
 a moment. No sooner had some unhappy youth heed- 
 lessly transgressed one of our Draconian laws than twenty 
 vengeful voices were raised in a shout, " Fine him ! fine 
 him ! ' VI t made one think of a band of redskins in 
 pursuit of their victim's scalp. The only course for the 
 unlucky culprit to pursue in such a case was to make the 
 
THE CAGNOTTE. A PHILOSOPHER. 6 1 
 
 best of it and pay the price of his peccadillo. An attempt 
 to deny the fault, or even to argue the case, only made 
 matters worse ; the voice of the objector was immediately 
 drowned in a chorus of objurgation. 
 
 There was one person in the school, however, who had 
 every reason to rejoice at our innovation. That person 
 was M. Valadier. Henceforth he might devote himself 
 with a tranquil conscience to his unfortunate passion for 
 bouts-rime's, for, thanks to us, his labour of surveillance had 
 become a sinecure. 
 
 He was an odd character in his self-effacement, this 
 shy, modest, bald-headed man, already beginning to show 
 his years, and seeming to think of or care for nothing 
 outside of his present extremely humble position. He 
 had become a fixture in his. usher's calling, which to 
 others is a stepping-stone to something better or a pur- 
 gatory ; it seemed to him as natural as the air to the 
 bird or the sea to the fish. The lycee was his rock, 
 Division No. I his shell. There was a story that the 
 principal one day having assigned him to other duties, 
 M. Valadier knew no happiness until he was restored to 
 his beloved class-room, his desk, and his straw-bottomed 
 armchair. 
 
 He had contracted a bundle of queer habits which little 
 by little had become to him as necessary as the air he 
 breathed. For instance, he always used the stove in sum- 
 mer as a supplementary closet in which to keep his alpaca 
 sleeves, a velvet skullcap and a pair of slippers that he 
 put on at the beginning of every seance. The periodical 
 return of the season when it became necessary to renounce 
 this usurpation, and restore the stove to its legitimate 
 functions as a heat producer, was an annually recurring 
 sorrow to the poor man. 
 
62 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 As for vacations, they were a period of protracted tor- 
 ture for him, and the only drawback to the pleasure he 
 experienced at the reopening of the school was the pros- 
 pect of seeing new faces in his room. But alas ! there is 
 no such thing as perfect happiness in this world, and the 
 students in rhetoric really could not be expected to follow 
 his example and become fixtures in the Lycee Montaigne 
 solely in order to avoid disturbing the habits of their 
 usher. 
 
 Another of his hobbies was to expatiate to us on the 
 exceptional advantages of his position and endeavour to 
 make proselytes to his doctrine. It could not be said of 
 him that he was eternally grumbling at his lot ! Nothing 
 angered him so quickly as the discredit, entirely unjus- 
 tified in his opinion, which the world attached to his 
 functions. 
 
 " Pion! One thinks he has said everything in saying, 
 Pion! Well, for my part, I am proud to be an usher, I am 
 content to be an usher, and I hope to remain an usher to 
 the end of my days. You may just tell the imbeciles that, 
 and inform them I said so." 
 
 Up to the present time the only thorn in the side of 
 this philosopher had been the necessity of exercising sur- 
 veillance over the students, and now the institution of the 
 cagnotte had suddenly relieved him of this burden. Had 
 he not reason to believe that he had reached the summit 
 of earthly felicity ? 
 
 As for us boys, after a week of experience we were not 
 yet tired of our system of mutual persecution, although 
 we had all paid frequent tribute to Dutheil's treasury. 
 
 All, however, with one exception Thomereau ! For 
 a whole week the young rascal had escaped being caught 
 transgressing. There were no more puns perpetrated in 
 
THE CAGNOTTE. A PHILOSOPHER. 63 
 
 study hours, the little notes no longer circulated furtively 
 from hand to hand. Thomereau had all at once become 
 the model of all the virtues. And what was more, no one 
 had been so inflexible an agent in enforcing the rules, no 
 one's conscience was burdened with the weight of so many 
 fines inflicted upon others. 
 
 A fierce longing to be revenged began to ferment in 
 the bosoms of the little community. Secret conclaves 
 were held in the corners of the courtyard, measures were 
 concerted that it was supposed must infallibly lead 
 Thomereau to break the law. 
 
 Vain were all our efforts. He had sworn to go scathe- 
 less through the year, and was not to be caught in any of 
 our carefully baited traps. He who had always been so 
 noisy and inconsiderate now kept a strict watch on his 
 every movement, never raised his eyes in school-time 
 unless it was to swoop down on a delinquent, and, to state 
 the case in a single word, was invulnerable. 
 
 And at recess he would turn the knife in the wound by 
 saying, with a patronizing air : 
 
 "It is really awfully good of you fellows to chip in to 
 give me a good dinner, to which I shall not have contrib- 
 uted a centime." 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LEGE QU/ESO. 
 
 I WAS now on easy terms with my new comrades and 
 entirely at home in the Lycee Montaigne. There 
 was one thing, however, that astonished me and, to tell 
 the truth, humiliated me a little, which was the little 
 attention I attracted in the midst of the class of eighty 
 pupils. After the not very flattering remarks that my 
 Latin theme had elicited, I had not been favoured with the 
 least notice on the part of M. Auger. He seemed, in 
 fact, to be ignorant that such a person as I existed. 
 
 Not only had it so chanced that he had never questioned 
 me or called me up to explain a passage in our author, but 
 the tasks to which I had given most pains were passed 
 over without a word of comment. 
 
 And yet, in each class, it was the professor's custom to 
 select ten or a dozen exercises and give his judgment of 
 them, always with the candour and outspokenness that were 
 so eminently characteristic of the man. Never once had 
 my exercise been of the number. 
 
 What seemed to me still more strange and in a certain 
 sense unjust was that day after day the themes of some 
 of our number, particularly Dutheil and the head ones of 
 the class, were carefully read, criticized, and dissected by 
 the master's merciless scalpel. 
 
LEGE QU^SO. * 65 
 
 What was the reason of this evident and apparently 
 premeditated preference ? I had heard that at Paris the 
 professors are accustomed, as must necessarily be the case 
 where the classes are so large, to bestow most of their 
 attention on those students on whom they think they can 
 count for success in the great university tripos. But I 
 should never have believed that this species of favouritism 
 would be carried so far as to entirely neglect talents of a 
 more modest order. 
 
 " It is the sluggards and dullards of the class, on the 
 other hand, who should be urged on and made to toe the 
 mark," I said to myself. "The others can get along 
 without a master, at a pinch." 
 
 Oppressed by the gravity of these considerations, I 
 determined one day to go and see what Dutheil had to 
 say about the matter. 
 
 He was, as I have said before, an affable and obliging 
 fellow, of enormous application, and always very lucky at 
 examinations, which gave him a consciousness of power ; 
 but at the same time there was nothing of the pedant about 
 him, and he was not disposed to be secretive in regard 
 to those small methods which are requisite for success. 
 
 I was much more attached to him than I was to Segol, 
 for instance, a great hulking fellow with a bull's neck and 
 the head of a chimpanzee, who was so insufferably con- 
 ceited, because he had taken a prize for Latin versifica- 
 tion the year before, that there was no approaching him. 
 There was nothing very extraordinary in this, it may be 
 said, for during the last three or four years Segol had 
 devoted himself body and soul to this one specialty. He 
 did nothing else, took no interest in anything else, had no 
 other aim or object in life. To read and re-read the 
 ALneid, not to admire its beauties, but to master its tech- 
 
66 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 nique and increase his stock of images and epithets, to 
 explore unceasingly the depths of the Gradus or of Qui- 
 cherat's "Treatise on Latin Prosidy," such was his sole 
 mission here below. History, science, French or Latin 
 eloquence, the beauties of Greek literature or those of the 
 great English and German authors, physical exercises 
 nothing of all this was of the least value whatever in his 
 eyes. The great, the only question was to know if such 
 and such a Latin word was composed of two shorts or two 
 longs, if it was capable of forming a dactyl or a spondee. 
 
 Latin versification certainly has its advantages, and far 
 be it from me to belittle its importance. It occupies a 
 place in all liberal education, and, whether as a simple 
 intellectual exercise or a means to a more correct appre- 
 ciation of the Latin poets, it would be difficult to find 
 anything to replace it. But, after all, it is only a Jwrs- 
 d 'ceuvre, and an accessory ; to make of it, as Segol did, 
 the piece de resistance, or, rather, the sole dish of the 
 classic banquet, seemed to me extremely ill - advised. 
 
 However, it was not so much this hobby of his that 
 repelled me as his arrogant and egotistic air. And what 
 attracted me in Duthiel, on the other hand, was less his 
 almost universal superiority (except in mathematics) than 
 the frankness and simplicity of his manner. 
 
 " Don't you think it singular," I said to him, then, that 
 morning, " that M. Auger gives so much attention to your 
 themes and constantly leaves unnoticed the exercises of 
 so many other students ? It seems to me that if I were 
 in your place I should feel uncomfortable to be the object 
 of so marked a preference." 
 
 Dutheil looked at me with surprise. 
 
 " I don't know what gave you that idea," he said. 
 "M. Auger treats me no differently from the rest." 
 
O L^V 
 
 X 
 
 UNIVERSITY) 
 
 67 
 
 " What ! is it not true that M. Auger has always some 
 comment to make on your exercises ? " 
 
 " I fail to see anything out of the way in that. It 
 would be extraordinary, indeed, if he acted otherwise." 
 
 Such assurance confounded me. 
 
 " But what would you say if you were in my place and 
 had handed ten carefully prepared themes to the professor, 
 all which were passed over in silence ?" 
 
 " I should be greatly astonished. But such a thing ap- 
 pears to me hardly possible. Did it happen in your case ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it did. Every day I enter the class-room hoping 
 to receive a word of praise or censure, a criticism, a mere 
 remark. But there is nothing, and I am obliged to sit and 
 look silly, without knowing whether I have done well or ill." 
 
 "That is singular!" said Dutheil. "And you are 
 always careful to write lege quceso on your exercise ? " 
 he added, after a moment's reflection. 
 
 It was my turn to manifest surprise. 
 
 " Lege quceso please read ! What ! you did n't know ? 
 That is a good one, upon my word ! " 
 
 And he gave way to a hearty fit of laughter. 
 
 " We always write lege quceso at the head of our theme, 
 my dear boy, when we wish our production to be examined 
 by the professor. You can see that it would be impossi- 
 ble to give an opinion every day on seventy-five exercises ; 
 such a labour would be beyond the powers even of a man 
 of M. Auger's ability ! So many compositions are written 
 without care or thought, simply to avoid punishment ! It 
 would be equally hard on the master and on the class to 
 compel them to waste valuable time on such performances. 
 It is no small task that he has to read them all in his hours 
 of leisure, in order that his proper standing may be given 
 
68 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 to each man. So recourse is had to an expedient. Every 
 student who omits to preface his composition with the 
 classic formula admits, ipso facto, that his work is poor, 
 hastily prepared, and unworthy of the public recognition 
 of the master, and that all that is asked for it is the silence 
 and obscurity of an examination in private. On the other 
 hand, he who has taken pains with his work, endeavouring 
 conscientiously to produce the best that is in him, if he 
 will but mark it with those two words, lege quczso, is cer- 
 tain to see it read, annotated, and criticized by a competent 
 judge in the presence of the whole class. Do you not 
 consider that a fair arrangement ? " 
 
 " Perfectly fair, and you cannot imagine what a load you 
 have taken off my mind," I said to Dutheil. "It was with 
 the greatest reluctance, I assure you, that I accused M. 
 Auger of partiality. He has such a candid, honest way 
 with him ! " 
 
 "There is no better man in all the world, as there is 
 none more respected for his learning. It is an inestima- 
 ble boon to have him for our professor, and some day you 
 will see how we shall appreciate that advantage." 
 
 The veil had dropped from my eyes. Thenceforth I was 
 possessed by a single thought, to give the measure of 
 my powers in a theme as good as I could produce, and at 
 last secure M. Auger's opinion of my performance. 
 
 It so happened that on the following day we were to 
 hand in a French composition, the subject of which was 
 entirely to my liking : 
 
 " Alcuin submits to Charlemagne and his counsellors the 
 necessity of establishing schools throughout the land." 
 
 French composition had been my strong point at 
 Chatillon. Not only had I been awarded the prize of 
 honour the preceding year, but on the occasion of a visit 
 
LEGE QU&SO. 69 
 
 to the lycee by an illustrious statesman who was making 
 the tour of the department, I had been selected to deliver 
 the address of welcome, and my " lams " had had the 
 honour of being printed in the Guetteur de la Leze. I may 
 say without vanity that the aforesaid "lai'us" was con- 
 sidered a creditable performance, and, on the strength of 
 this single specimen of my academic eloquence, several of 
 my father's friends had urged him to select the bar as my 
 career. 
 
 I flattered myself, therefore, that I was able to write 
 four or five pages of French not wholly unworthy of M. 
 Auger's approbation, and, fortified by the counsel that 
 Dutheil had given me, I buckled down to my task with 
 determination. At all events, I could depend now on 
 being read and judged in accordance with my desert. 
 
 The incubation of my masterpiece occupied me no less 
 than three hours. After I had adorned and beautified it, 
 scattering through it with a lavish hand all the flowers of 
 my imagination and all the graces of my style, after I had 
 read and re-read it, and even carried it out to the court- 
 yard to submit it to Verschuren's critical acumen (I 
 thought he would be interested in the glory that must ac- 
 crue to our common birthplace), I finally decided to make 
 a fair copy of it in my very best chirography, and at the 
 head of my production, opposite my name, I wrote the two 
 fateful words. 
 
 At last I abandoned the fruit of my labours to its fate, 
 and beheld it flutter away in company with the other 
 leaves, first into the "correspondence basket," then to M. 
 Auger's desk, and finally into his coat pocket. 
 
 To say that I was unmoved when, on the following day, 
 the solemn moment came for the exercises to emerge from 
 those same secret recesses would certainly be a wicked 
 
/O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 untruth. Where is the conscript whose heart did not beat 
 on hearing the cannon for the first time ? However, the 
 memory of my Chatillonian laurels sustained me, and with 
 a slight modification of Bailly's words I might have 
 said : 
 
 " I tremble, but it is with hope." 
 
 M. Auger reviewed one after another the papers of five 
 or six of my comrades. He commended Dutheil's, and 
 even read us a page or two of it that he considered par- 
 ticularly happy. With the others he was less tender. 
 
 At last he reached my name. 
 
 "M. Besnard," he said. 
 
 A film passed across my eyes. All my blood flowed 
 back on my heart. I was pale as a man listening to his 
 death sentence. 
 
 " M. Besnard," the professor went on, "gives us to-day 
 what the English call a maiden speech, a discours d'essai. 
 I regret that I am unable to say, with Corneille, that this 
 coup d'essai is a coup de maitre. M. Besnard, I should be 
 sorry to state if I were not here for that very purpose, does 
 not seem to have formed a very clear idea of the kind of 
 composition that was assigned him. He appears to think 
 that, in order to perpetuate what is known in rhetoric as 
 Discours Fran$ais, it is sufficient to string out in long 
 array the more or less judicious ideas which present them- 
 selves to his mind and strike him as having some connec- 
 tion with the subject. He totally disregards the canvas 
 given him to treat, and makes no attempt to develop it. 
 The evil would not be so great if the elements he intro- 
 duces had any real value, but the opposite is the case, ex- 
 cept, perhaps, as regards one or two paragraphs. 
 
 " I cannot repeat too often, speaking in a general way, 
 that it is best you should adhere closely to the subjects I 
 
"AS FOR ME, I WAS DUMFOUNDED." 
 
LEGE QU^SO. 73 
 
 give you to develop, the object being to form your minds 
 to habits of logical deduction. When you are writing a 
 historical narrative, for instance, it is permissible to give 
 your imagination freer play, and adopt for your ideas the 
 order that appears to you most attractive. The object of 
 the exercise which we call Discours Frangais is simply to 
 afford you a lesson in ratiocination reduced to its elemen- 
 tary terms, and to which you are to give only a natural 
 expansion. The very disorder of the arguments used by 
 M. Besnard shows what need his understanding has of such 
 a training." 
 
 What words have I fit to express the torments of my 
 little provincial vanity, while these criticisms, temperate 
 as they were, were falling from M. Auger's lips ? I was 
 as red as a peony, and kept my eyes glued on my book so 
 as not to encounter the, as I supposed, ironical glances of 
 my schoolmates. 
 
 " As for the style 
 
 Here I breathed again. Having in that brief moment 
 drained the cup of bitterness, I began to indulge the hope 
 that there was something in the way of consolation await- 
 ing me. And it was my style for which I had been most 
 admired at Chatillon ! 
 
 "As for the style," continued M. Auger, "it is at all 
 times ordinary, and often incorrect. I have noted twenty 
 instances I will mention a few. There, for example, in 
 the very first sentence; the idea took me. The idea occurred 
 to me is what you should say ; the former locution, although 
 tolerated in colloquial conversation, is inadmissible in fin- 
 ished discourse. Elsewhere I find brilliant lustre, which is 
 an evident pleonasm. Farther on I perceive to advance 
 forward. It would be difficult to advance backward. 
 These are venial errors, doubtless, but they produce a dis- 
 
74 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 agreeable impression, especially when they are so numer- 
 ous. Elsewhere Alcuin assures Charlemagne that the pro- 
 jected reform will be the 'brightest jewel of his crown.' 
 Why not the brightest sword of his life ? (Laughter.) 
 Such forms of speech are pretentious, vulgar, and in bad 
 taste, as are all metaphors that do not rest on truth and 
 nature. M. Besnard has never seen them in Pascal, or 
 Moliere or Racine. He will do well to leave them where 
 he found them, and confine himself to the forms of language 
 consecrated by our great writers." 
 
 That was all. M. Auger took up the next exercise. 
 
 As for me, I was annihilated, and it was more than a 
 quarter of an hour before I dared to raise my eyes to the 
 class. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 'ANAFKH. 
 
 IF I had had a little less vanity and a little more common 
 sense, I should have seen at once that M. Auger's criti- 
 cisms were perfectly reasonable and just; I should have 
 told myself that it was his duty as a professor to impart 
 them to me, and mine as a student to listen to them, and 
 that, instead of resenting his salutary advice, I ought to be 
 glad to profit by it. 
 
 Unfortunately for myself, it was vanity that got the 
 upper hand in the conflict, and I foolishly decided that it 
 was incumbent on my dignity to be very angry. 
 
 Right or wrong, I thought I had discerned in the mas- 
 ter's kindly meant remarks an intent to ridicule my provin- 
 cial education. It seemed to me that all Chatillon, and 
 the department in which I had first seen the light, besides, 
 had been insulted and derided in my person. I swore 
 eternal hatred to my comrades for having laughed, forget- 
 ting that twenty times at least I had committed the self- 
 same crime when it was another who occupied the stool of 
 repentance. I did not stop to reflect that their merriment 
 had had no bitterness in it, and that five minutes after the 
 occurrence no one appeared to know what it was all about. 
 
 But / knew, and when the class was dismissed I could 
 cheerfully have picked a quarrel with every member 
 of it. 
 
76 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 I could not disregard the evidence of my senses, how- 
 ever; I was forced to admit that no one paid the least 
 attention to my threatening looks, and that the terrestrial 
 globe had not ceased to revolve on its axis because my great 
 effort had turned out a miserable failure. 
 
 But this public defeat, nevertheless, had a deplorable 
 effect upon my disposition. 
 
 I began with a mental vow never again to write lege 
 quceso at the head of my exercises. In that way, I said to 
 myself, I shall no longer expose myself to the risk of see- 
 ing my literary defects and my Chatillonian style turned 
 into ridicule. 
 
 On the other hand, the certainty that my themes would 
 not be read presently induced in me a pernicious habit of 
 slovenly and careless composition, as is apt to be the case 
 when our duties are ungrateful. 
 
 No one can feel satisfied with himself who sits down and 
 in a quarter of an hour dashes off, haphazard, a string of 
 empty phrases, without rhyme or reason. That was the 
 case with me ; I was not happy, and my standing in com- 
 position was not calculated to restore my cheerfulness. 
 Twelfth, fifteenth, eighteenth, such was now my usual 
 number in the class. 
 
 A singular process was going on within my brain. I 
 finally convinced myself that I had an unconquerable 
 prejudice to contend with, and that the Parisian professors 
 made it their business to impede the progress of scholars 
 from the provinces. 
 
 " What use is there in working ? " I said to myself. 
 " Do what I may, I shall always be classed after those who 
 have pursued their studies at Paris, and have acquired 
 there that indefinable something without which success is 
 impossible " 
 
'ANAFKH. 77 
 
 The reasoning of a child ! It would have been such a 
 simple matter to set to work and ascertain just what was 
 that undefinable something whose existence was revealed 
 to me by a sort of instinct ! But my preconceived notion 
 was there and not to be got rid of ; it continued to weigh 
 me down like a veritable rock of Sisyphus. 
 
 I became morose, melancholy, almost peevish. Mamma 
 and Aunt Aubert, of course, noticed the change and 
 inquired the reason of it. Foolishly again, I made a 
 mystery of the matter to them ; I found it simpler to 
 deny my melancholy than to explain it. 
 
 I was a little more candid with Molecule, who ques- 
 tioned me discreetly on the same subject. Without con- 
 fessing the real source of my woes (perhaps I might not 
 have been able to tell exactly what it was myself), I hinted 
 obscurely at their magnitude. I was, I informed him, 
 " one of those unfortunate and accursed beings who are 
 born with the brand of despair marked on their brow, and 
 are doomed forever to drag after them the ball and chain 
 of a hateful existence." 
 
 Those are the very expressions I made use of as I strode 
 with great strides up and down the courtyard at his side, 
 on a gloomy afternoon in autumn. In confirmation of my 
 words I revealed to him that I had adopted as my motto 
 the Greek word 'Avayxri (fatality), and proposed, as soon 
 as the condition of my finances warranted such oriental 
 luxury, to have the legend engraved on a seal of steel, the 
 handle to be a death's head carved in silver. 
 
 Molecule was of all the world the one best calculated 
 to comprehend me. He stopped in front of me and eyed 
 me in silence for a moment. 
 
 " Friend, I know your complaint I have suffered from 
 it," he said. " It is the melancholy of poets. Their only 
 
 
78 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 remedy for it lies in expectorating the scorn and disgust 
 inspired in them by a coarse and vulgar world. Write 
 verse ; believe me, it is the only cure for you ! " 
 
 Write verse ! Of a truth, all my surroundings seemed 
 to be in a conspiracy to drive me to that extremity. From 
 M. Valadier, who never came up to the dormitory without 
 having laboriously fabricated two or three dozen Alex- 
 andrines, to Molecule, who rhymed on everything and 
 apropos of nothing, without mentioning Segol and the 
 other adherents of the Latin muse, all spoke to me of 
 poetry. Was it possible that my friend was right and 
 that I, too, was about to be visited by the divine afflatus ? 
 
 At all hazards it behooved me to make the attempt. 
 
 I had scarce more than regained my room than I set to 
 work. With the assistance of the dictionary of rhymes 
 owned by M. Valadier, who was so kind as to dispense 
 with it for an hour or two while he was filling up our 
 weekly reports, I had soon concocted an elegy that exhaled 
 the most funereal gloom. The title and initial lines will 
 speak for it sufficiently. It was styled : 
 
 MALEDICTION ! !! 
 and commenced in this way : 
 
 Ah ! curst be the day when on thy bitter shore, 
 O Life, I was upheaved by the wave of destiny! 
 Curst be 
 
 There was a long string of violent imprecations, but of 
 which it may be said that they were generally determined 
 by the rhyme. 
 
 When I had put the finishing touches to this vengeful 
 production, I made haste to copy it out on a clean sheet of 
 glazed paper, and, after affixing my signature and adding 
 
'ANAFKH. 79 
 
 a flourish that resembled a crazy sky-rocket, I transmitted 
 it to Molecule with a request for his opinion. 
 
 My emotion was almost insupportable while this eminent 
 authority was acquainting himself with the contents of my 
 missive. What would come of it ? And what would be 
 his verdict on my poetical abilities ? 
 
 It surpassed my fondest hopes. Whether Molecule had 
 learned by experience how indispensable is the bread of 
 applause in the mouth of the poet, or whether he was 
 sincere in his admiration, the note he sent me contained 
 this one word : 
 
 "Sublime!" 
 
 and he had no more than clapped eyes on me in the play- 
 ground than he hastened to assure me that I was destined 
 to be " the greatest poet of my time." 
 
 The expression struck me as rather emphatic, and I 
 replied by disclaiming, rather feebly, any such aspirations 
 on my part. But Molecule would not listen to me. I 
 had the sacred fire, he declared, and that was the great 
 point. My elegy was instinct, from beginning to end, with 
 the fiercest indignation, and he doubted sincerely if the 
 most illustrious of our poets had achieved anything supe- 
 rior, as a commencement. 
 
 Human vanity is boundless. Turgid and ridiculous as 
 were these encomiums, they went straight to my heart. 
 I looked on myself, in all honesty and good faith, as a 
 genius of the first rank, and gave no thought to the 
 matter when poor Molecule, impatient to reimburse him- 
 self for his outlay of admiration, immediately availed 
 himself of the opportunity to communicate to me the 
 seventh canto of his epic. His Alexandrines, unfortu- 
 nately, were already beginning to appear feeble alongside 
 
80 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 mine, or, rather, I had ears only for my own music. He 
 must certainly have thought me cold. 
 
 From that day all my dreams were of poetry. Male- 
 diction was succeeded by a satire aimed at a certain pedant 
 whose crime was that he had not appreciated my literary 
 talents at their just value, and whom, on that account, I 
 devoted to the execration of posterity. I pictured to 
 myself the derisive laughter of our remote descendants 
 on learning how he had failed to recognize the great poet 
 there was in Albert Besnard. 
 
 I was certainly far from imagining that these crude 
 attempts of mine had absolutely nothing in common with 
 genuine poetry except the more or less orthodox number 
 of feet of which my lines consisted, and the tawdry, 
 commonplace rhymes in which I dressed them. I 
 believed in perfect good faith that poetry consists 
 simply in the observance of certain mechanical rules and 
 in monotonous assonances. Had any one attempted to 
 tell me that it cannot exist without a profound knowledge 
 of the language, reinforced by special genius and familiarity 
 with the noblest models, I should have listened to him in 
 utter stupefaction. We should laugh at a man who, 
 knowing nothing of music, should attempt to compose an 
 opera. Judge how much more difficult it is to detect and 
 voice that secret harmony of words and thoughts whose 
 very existence is unsuspected by the vulgar ! 
 
 Be that as it may, I considered myself a poet, which 
 possibly answered quite as well as if I were one, and 
 gradually came to devote all my time to versifying. 
 French composition, languages, dead and living, history, 
 geography, all were henceforth neglected for my new 
 passion. It was as much as ever that my mathematical 
 studies retained a place in my life, obliged as I was to give 
 
"THE FIRST DAY i STROLLED UP THE CHAMPS ELYSEES 
 
 IN ALL THE GLORY OF MY NEW CLOTHES." 
 
'ANAFKH. 83 
 
 them a semblance of attention by my private lessons 
 with M. Desbans. But as regarded all other matters, I 
 was as much a stranger to the school as if M. Auger, M. 
 Aveline, and our other masters had been so many Chinese 
 professors, teaching, in a language unfamiliar to my ears, 
 things that only the Celestials require to know. 
 
 The comparative independence enjoyed by the individual 
 in a Parisian lycee, owing to the great number of pupils, 
 was of assistance to me in this neglect of all my duties, 
 and I abused it shamelessly. It was strange, but it never 
 occurred to me that I was wronging both my father and 
 myself by devoting the time at college which should have 
 been given to my regular studies to other matters. And 
 yet I should have known that my family did not subject 
 themselves to the heavy expense of maintaining me at the 
 lycee to have me lead an idle and useless life there. I 
 should have seen how foolish it was to attend day after 
 day courses in literature and history without doing my 
 best to profit by them, and my common sense should have 
 told me that among the cares and toils of after life the 
 golden opportunity which I was so senselessly letting slip 
 from me would never recur again. But no such reflections 
 occurred to me. I believed I was a poet, and that was 
 sufficient to close my eyes to the most elementary 
 truths. 
 
 Another cause contributed to make me view with 
 increasing indifference everything connected with the 
 routine of the school, and that was my intimacy with 
 Lecachey. I was in the habit of meeting him elsewhere 
 than at the fencing school. The community of interests 
 between his father and mine had been the means of broad- 
 ening our relations. I had been invited to his house ; in 
 his company I had been favoured with an occasional 
 
84 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 glimpse of the elegances and luxuries of Parisian existence, 
 and I had been a little dazzled. If Molecule had exerted 
 an influence as deplorable as it was decisive on my intel- 
 lectual evolution, Lecachey was responsible for a change 
 no less marked in my external appearance. 
 
 Two ambitions now occupied my bosom, to be at the 
 same time a poet and a well-dressed man, and no one so 
 completely realized my idea of what a well-dressed man 
 should be as did Lecachey. The tranquil indifference 
 with which he shook off the cares and annoyances inci- 
 dental to his scholastic life, as a duck sheds water from its 
 glossy back, constituted a charm the more. Seeing him 
 sink the lycee so readily the moment he closed the door 
 behind him, and followed the recitations en amateur with- 
 out the ghost of a text -book before him, nonchalantly 
 returning irrelevant answers to the questions which the 
 professor occasionally propounded to him, I naturally 
 arrived at the conclusion that he was the very embodiment 
 of correct form. 
 
 This dandyism was carried to great lengths, for it ex- 
 tended even to contempt for the French language and the 
 rules of orthography. 
 
 " Monsieur Lecachey," Professor Auger said one day to 
 my brilliant comrade, " it is not necessary to say in this 
 here moment, but in this present moment ; one does not 
 enjoy a bad reputation, he simply has it ; when you desire 
 to say, he hurled his javelin, please write the word jeta 
 with one t, not two. How happens it that you are in the 
 rhetoric class and make such frightful blunders ? " 
 
 At such moments I must admit that I did not admire 
 my elegant friend. But maybe I did not make up for it 
 on .Sunday ! I copied his trousers, his cravats. He had 
 given me the address of his tailor, and my father had 
 
'ANAFKH. 85 
 
 allowed me to order a civilian suit, which I would put on 
 as soon as I reached home from the lycee. 
 
 The Arc de Triomphe was scarcely high enough to let 
 me pass under the first day I walked up the Champs 
 Elysees in the glory of my new clothes. 
 
 OF THE 
 
 (tJNIVE-RSI-TY 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN. 
 
 r I ""HERE existed in Division No. i a habit which had 
 -A- to some extent acquired the authority of law the 
 habit of shaving every Saturday preparatory to the weekly 
 holiday. For this purpose a barber of the neighbourhood 
 was allowed to set up a temporary shop in one of the 
 class-rooms during the noonday recess, and all those who 
 rejoiced in a semblance of whiskers were at liberty to 
 resort thither and have their chin scraped. 
 
 More than one rhetorician whose hirsute appendages 
 existed as yet only in prospective none the less considered 
 it necessary to undergo the operation, under the fallacious 
 pretence that it would accelerate the growth. 
 
 Of this number was Verschuren, whose eyes had never 
 thus far been gladdened with the slightest vestige of a 
 beard, but who, nevertheless, regularly every Saturday 
 submitted his chops to the secular arm of our barber, M. 
 Canonge. 
 
 This person, like a well-bred man acquainted with his 
 business, never opposed the least objection. He even 
 carried his Machiavellism so far as always to employ a 
 thin, wiry razor that " scraped " as it ran over the smooth- 
 est chin, producing the impression that it was reaping a 
 veritable forest of hair. 
 
 And the music rejoiced Verschuren exceedingly. 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN. 8/ 
 
 "It is astonishing how harsh my beard is getting," he 
 would say. " Do you hear how the razor screams ? " 
 
 " Yes, with agony," Thomereau replied. 
 
 Now and then M. Canonge would inflict a trifling wound 
 on Verschuren's epidermis. You should see the delight 
 with which the poor fellow would apply a little square of 
 black court - plaster to the cut. And all day long, you 
 might hear dialogues like this : 
 
 " Hello ! " some one would say, "what 's that Verschu- 
 ren has on his cheek ? " 
 
 "Oh, it's nothing only a cut that awkward fellow 
 Canonge gave me." 
 
 And we would turn our heads, and enjoy a quiet laugh. 
 But he was destined to furnish us with more ample food 
 for mirth. 
 
 There seemed to be times when he was not quite cer : 
 tain as to the reality of his famous beard ; at all events, it 
 was noticed that for some time past he had been making 
 more frequent visits to his desk than was at all necessary. 
 His face would be lost to sight for a moment, behind the 
 protecting lid, to reappear presently, besmeared, as to the 
 upper lip, with a colourless liquid resembling alcohol or 
 water. Then, taking from his pocket one of those horrid 
 little round mirrors set in pewter, that are sold in the 
 three sous shops, he would proceed to make a minute 
 examination of his features. 
 
 It puzzled us to know what to make of these manoeu- 
 vres. We scented a mystery. In Verschuren's absence 
 one day, Thomereau took it upon himself to institute 
 a perquisition in the mysterious desk, and soon the corpus 
 delicti was being passed from hand to hand, among the 
 members of the class. 
 
 It was a bottle of Capilline, a preparation that was rep- 
 
88 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 resented, on the label, to be a sovereign specific against 
 baldness. Verschuren had evidently made use of it, in the 
 hope of hastening the growth of his mustache. 
 
 "Not a word of my discovery, if you wish to enjoy 
 a good laugh ! " Thomereau enjoined on us. 
 
 The bottle, having completed the circuit of the class, 
 was restored to its place in the desk. Verschuren re- 
 turned, and suspected nothing. 
 
 It was all in vain, that, when recess came, we tried to 
 make Thomereau give us an inkling of his project ; not a 
 word could be extracted from him. It is my belief that 
 there was more than one of us who did not regard Ver- 
 schuren' s idea as such a bad one, and had secretly resolved 
 to give Capilline a trial. After all, if the lotion restored 
 the hair, why should it not be good for mustaches ? was 
 a question that was generally asked. 
 
 An argument that would have carried more conyiction 
 with it, if it had not rested on a false premise, to wit : that 
 Capilline r , and all the other wonderful preparations that 
 are advertised so freely on the fourth page of the news- 
 papers, so far from making the hair grow, have absolutely 
 no other merit than that of transferring the coppers from 
 the pockets of the ignorant and foolish to those of the 
 inventor. 
 
 However, the excitement caused by the incident had 
 subsided, and for some days past there had been no fur- 
 ther talk of Capilline, when, on entering the refectory one 
 morning, we were astounded to see Verschuren's lip 
 adorned with a splendid pair of mustaches. 
 
 Miracle of miracles ! Had Capilline done its work ? 
 
 Alas ! those mustaches were but a delusion and a snare ; 
 they were simply painted on the lip of the unhappy youth, 
 after the fashion of those facial ornaments that street 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN. 89 
 
 urchins bestow on themselves at carnival time, with the 
 assistance of burnt cork. I felt certain that it was one of 
 Thomereau's practical jokes, and I am forced to admit 
 that it struck me as very funny, although entirely inex- 
 cusable. 
 
 "It is idiotic ! " I said to myself, laughing in company 
 with the rest. " It will get Verschuren in trouble, sure. 
 Wipe your lip," I murmured in his ear, as I passed his 
 seat. 
 
 Verschuren, who had doubtless made an application of 
 lotion before coming down to breakfast, blushed, and 
 rubbed his lip with his handkerchief, but without produc- 
 ing any effect. The colouring was already dry, and ap- 
 peared to have become set. 
 
 Surprised to see everybody looking at him and laugh- 
 ing, he took his mirror from his pocket, and proceeded to 
 make a survey of himself. He was even more astounded 
 than the rest of us. 
 
 "What is this ?" he said, flushing crimson. 
 
 He moistened his napkin, and scoured away furiously 
 at the unwelcome ornaments. It availed nothing; the 
 colour seemed to have struck in and filled the pores of 
 the skin. 
 
 Fortunately, his back was to the central alley, which 
 separated the two rows of tables of the refectory, and the 
 ushers who, as was their custom, were patrolling it, saw 
 nothing of what was going on. 
 
 Verschuren was furious. He was too engrossed in his 
 occupation of scouring his face with his napkin, to think 
 of touching his breakfast. 
 
 Perceiving, at last, the futility of his efforts, he had 
 resource to the expedient of covering his mouth with his 
 handkerchief, as if he were bleeding at the nose, and mak- 
 
go SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 ing a bolt for the courtyard. There we found him, his 
 head under the pump, drenching himself with the ice-cold 
 water, and fairly smoking with rage in the midst of all 
 this deluge. 
 
 But the fatal mustaches were more intensely black than 
 ever. They seemed to shine again under the vigorous 
 friction of Verschuren's handkerchief. The best of the 
 joke was that the victim, convinced that it was all owing 
 to the potent influence of Capilline, did not dare complain. 
 
 We stood around him with an appearance of deep 
 interest, making more or less generous remarks on his 
 misfortune. 
 
 " He has cholera ! " 
 
 " Do you think it is catching ? " 
 
 " The black seems to be spreading toward the ears " 
 
 " The best thing he can do, is to go to the infirmary " 
 
 " Oh, I do hope he will get over it ! " 
 
 " Pooh ! there is no danger, only, when a fellow has 
 spots on the skin like those, there 's no use trying to get 
 rid of them." 
 
 Every one had his say. Thomereau alone kept himself 
 in the background. As for Verschuren, he was pale with 
 anger, and it would have been an immense satisfaction to 
 him to thrash somebody ; but whom could he tackle ? He 
 was so miserable that I took pity on him. 
 
 " It must have been that somebody put ink in the lo- 
 tion," I whispered to him. 
 
 He saw by my air that I was not making sport of him. 
 
 " The lotion ? then they know ? 
 
 " The whole class saw your bottle a week ago. It is 
 Punch's secret now." 
 
 "Ah!" he ejaculated, very shamefacedly. "But it 
 certainly is not ink," he continued, with a longer face than 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN. 91 
 
 ever. " If it were I should have noticed the difference, 
 and there was no change in the colour of the lotion." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " I said to myself, " this begins to look seri- 
 ous. Can it be possible that Thomereau, the senseless 
 idiot, has had recourse to some dangerous acid, perhaps a 
 poison. See here," I continued, in an undertone, " promise 
 me you won't be angry with the author of this piece of 
 mischief, and I will help you to discover him." 
 
 " Not be angry ? Ah ! depend on it, he shall dance to 
 music of my making if ever I lay hands on him. That 
 miserable Thomereau was the man, I would n't be afraid 
 to swear to it ! I see him skulking yonder in the distance, 
 afraid to come near 
 
 " Very well, do as you please. Only I shall have noth- 
 ing further to do with the affair." 
 
 The menace had its effect. 
 
 " But you don't mean that I am not to pull the rascal's 
 ears if it is he who has been amusing himself at my 
 expense ? " 
 
 " That is precisely what I mean. I do not say it to 
 offend you, but, after all, the joke was not a bad one, and 
 our comrade will be amply punished if we retaliate on him 
 in kind. Give me your word not to make a mountain out 
 of a mole-hill and I will promise you my assistance to be 
 revenged." 
 
 " Very well ! you have my word," Verschuren finally 
 said. 
 
 "Then wait here for me." 
 
 I ran across the courtyard to Thomereau. 
 
 " Quick, not a moment's hesitation, or Verschuren will 
 murder you ! What did you put in his bottle ? " 
 
 Thomereau was inclined to stand on his dignity and 
 repudiate the insinuation. 
 
92 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " You will do best to tell me the truth ; unless you do 
 Verschuren will take charge of the negotiations, and I 
 assure you he won't stand on ceremony." 
 
 " Man Dieu, be easy, can't you ? There 's no necessity 
 for making such a fuss. This is how it was. I simply 
 dissolved a little nitrate of silver in the contents of the 
 bottle. The colour of the liquid remained unchanged in the 
 darkness of the desk and only turned black upon exposure 
 to the light. I have a cousin who is acquainted with a 
 photographer ; he explained the matter to me " 
 
 " It is well ; not another word." 
 
 I hurried off to Payan, a Taupin with some knowledge 
 of chemistry. 
 
 He held the position of assistant demonstrator, and in 
 that capacity carried a key of the laboratory, with liberty 
 of access at all times. I explained the matter to him. He 
 laughed. 
 
 "A solution of hyposulphite of soda will remove the 
 stain," he said. 
 
 And he obligingly went and procured for me a small 
 phial of the remedy. 
 
 A few moments later Verschuren was relieved of his 
 mustachios, and also, I think, of his faith in Capilline. 
 
 He kept his word and did not speak a word to Tho- 
 mereau of what had happened. But our poor devil of a 
 punster had a presentiment that matters were not going to 
 end thus, and nothing could be more comical than his 
 looks of apprehension as often as he found himself in Ver- 
 schuren's neighbourhood. The circumambient atmosphere 
 seemed to him charged with kicks and cuffs. His gayety 
 had departed ; he reissued none of his ancient puns, and 
 still less did he think of putting new ones in circulation. 
 However, after three or four days of mental torture, see- 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF VERSCHUREN. 93 
 
 ing no signs of danger on the horizon, he began to pluck 
 up courage a little. 
 
 How little did he suspect that even then the hour of 
 vengeance was about to strike ! 
 
 It struck in the dormitory one night, about twelve 
 o'clock. I had been sleeping soundly for two hours when 
 I was awakened by a touch on the shoulder. By the feeble 
 light of the night-lamp I recognized Verschuren bending 
 over me. 
 
 " I have my lad," he said to me, in a low voice. " Just 
 listen." 
 
 I sat up and lent my ear. Silence reigned throughout 
 the room, unbroken save for a snore, resonant, regular, 
 profound as the growl of one of the big pipes of a church 
 organ. 
 
 " It is Thomereau who is snoring," Verschuren con- 
 tinued, " and to snore in the dormitory is a misdemeanor ! " 
 
 We smothered our laughter as well as we could. 
 
 Two minutes later Dutheil, Chavasse, Molecule and 
 Payan, aroused to serve as witnesses, were standing with 
 us at Thomereau' s bedside. 
 
 With mouth agape and distended nostrils the poor 
 wretch was snoring away, unconscious of impending evil. 
 A resounding slap awoke him with a start. 
 
 " Brother, no one may snore in the dormitory ! Ten 
 centimes fine ! " said Verschuren, in an imposing tone. 
 
 " No one may snore in the dormitory ! Ten centimes 
 fine ! " the rest of us chorused, in sepulchral accents. 
 
 Thomereau looked at us with awe and wonder. But 
 presently, taking in the situation : 
 
 " I suppose you consider it funny to wake me up in this 
 way! Mon Dieu ! you shall have your ten centimes," he 
 grunted, and turned his back on us. 
 
94 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 We had at last found the defect in his armour ! 
 
 After that evening the unhappy youth never ventured 
 to close his eyes until every one was asleep, and for a 
 week or two he abstained religiously from practical jokes. 
 
 " And yet," he said, every time that he was obliged to 
 part with his two sous, " where should a fellow snore if 
 not in the dormitory? I think that article should be 
 expunged from the regulations." 
 
"'BROTHER, NO ONE MAY SNORE IN THE DORMITORY.' 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MOLIERE. 
 
 IT was Sunday. I had spent my afternoon driving with 
 Lecachey in the Bois de Boulogne and had come in a 
 few minutes late for dinner. My father always insisted 
 on rigid punctuality in such matters ; I found the entire 
 family gathered in the drawing-room awaiting me. 
 
 As I was making my excuses while taking my place at 
 table, I was struck by the expression of sadness that was 
 visible on every face. My mother contemplated me with 
 a sort of pained compassion. Grandpa seemed lost in his 
 reflections, and shook his head occasionally while talking to 
 himself. My father swallowed his soup without raising his 
 eyes from the plate. And as for Aunt Aubert, there was 
 no mistake about it, two big tears hung ready to drop from 
 her eyelashes. 
 
 I was asking myself what might be the meaning of these 
 diverse manifestations of a common sentiment, when my 
 father undertook to afford me an explanation. 
 
 " My dear boy," he suddenly spoke up, "why did you 
 not tell us that you were not happy at the Lyce*e Mon- 
 taigne ? You surely know that you have no better friends 
 than your parents, and that it is your duty not to withhold 
 from them your cares and sorrows 
 
 Here mamma and Aunt Aubert burst out in sobs, and 
 the aspect of the table became more than ever like a 
 funeral banquet. 
 
98 SCHOOLS O Y DA YS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "If you have any reasonable objection to the studies 
 you are pursuing," my father went on, "you should 
 confide it to us. We have no object save your hap- 
 piness " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure, your happiness," Aunt Aubert vehe- 
 mently interrupted, rising and moving rapidly around the 
 table to cast her arms about my neck. " Poor darling ! 
 You are persecuted, are n't you ? They make your life 
 miserable and you never say a word ! " 
 
 I was literally dumfounded by this scene, and utterly 
 unable to account for it on any reasonable hypothesis. 
 Sunday was not usually one of my " blue " days, and these 
 unforeseen condolences were entirely at variance with my 
 prevailing mood on returning from the Bois. I could do 
 nothing, therefore, but mumble confused protestations 
 and denials. 
 
 " Really, now, I can't imagine what has given you such 
 ideas Aunt Aubert, please, please don't cry so. It is 
 .all a mistake, I assure you an inexplicable misunder- 
 standing 
 
 " Come," said my father, a little sharply, " what use is 
 there in denying what is true ? I have been to the lycee 
 for information, and I learned there that your standing in 
 your classes is poor, that you neglect your studies, and 
 that your reputation is that of an idle, lazy scholar. Now 
 I know you well enough to be certain that underlying all 
 this there is some mysterious disgust which you are . con- 
 cealing from us." 
 
 By this time my face was blazing ; I said not a word. 
 
 " Finally, if there were any room for doubt remaining," 
 my father concluded, extracting from his pocket a crumpled 
 sheet of paper, " this copy of verses, found this morning 
 by Aunt Aubert on the floor, where it had dropped from 
 
"^n/^Wl/^x. 
 
 A 
 
 (UN iv! r) 
 
 ^^ 
 BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MOLIERE. 99 
 
 the pocket of your tunic, would suffice to enlighten us as 
 to your mental state. Malediction / / / that is its title. 
 
 " Ah ! curst be the day when on thy bitter shore, 
 O Life . . . "' 
 
 "The poor child!" here cried Aunt Aubert, carried 
 away by her indignation.' " Seventeen years old, and 
 already cursing life ! Why, they must be vampires, and 
 worse, those to whom we entrusted him ! " 
 
 At this juncture the general emotion and the music of 
 my own poetry acted on me with such sudden intensity 
 that my feelings overcame me, and I mingled my tears 
 with Aunt Aubert's. Mamma's and grandpa's floodgates 
 were also opened ; the deluge was universal. 
 
 My father saw that it was time to try the effect of a 
 diversion. 
 
 " If the verses only had a little merit ! " he wearily said, 
 suspending his reading ; " but we have not even that poor 
 consolation, alas ! I think that in all my life I never saw 
 such pitiable trash " 
 
 I bounded like a horse at the touch of the spur. 
 
 " Molecule thinks them good ! " I rejoined. 
 
 " Molecule doubtless has his reasons for saying so, my 
 dear boy, but I am unable to share his opinion. Without 
 going further than the first line, for instance, can you not 
 see the absurdity of applying the epithet bitter to a shore 
 of any kind, even the metaphorical shore of life ? Male- 
 diction is a rhapsody, don't blind yourself to that fact, my 
 lad. If you propose to employ your time at the Lycee 
 Montaigne in composing verse of that calibre, my advice 
 to you would be to resign at once and hire out as clerk in 
 a grocery shop, where you can sell pound packages of the 
 sugar of my manufacture." 
 
100 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 Brief as this little passage at arms had been, it had the 
 effect designed by my father, that of diverting our ideas 
 into another channel. Aunt Aubert and grandpa attempted 
 my defence, and, disenchanted though they were, tried to 
 make it appear that my poetry was not so black as it was 
 painted. Mamma, comprehending how painful to my self- 
 esteem the discussion was, and observing that I maintained 
 a sullen silence, made a signal to the combatants to change 
 the subject. The inquiry was resumed into the motives 
 
 which had elicited from me such dreadful accents of 
 
 
 
 despair. 
 
 That gave me control of the situation. With sulky per- 
 versity I absolutely declined to make any statement. It 
 was all in vain that they tried to make me say why I, who 
 had always been studious and obedient at Chatillon, now 
 saw fit to take my place among the most irreclaimable 
 dunces at Montaigne. I kept my mouth resolutely closed. 
 
 In the midst of these unpleasantnesses the dinner came 
 to an end. 
 
 As soon as the dessert was disposed of, I pushed back 
 my chair and rose, without saying a word. 
 
 " Where are you going in such a hurry ? " my father 
 asked, with a suggestion of malice. 
 
 " I am going to put on my uniform and return to the 
 lycee," I replied, with a great display of dignity. 
 
 " Ta, ta, ta what 's that you are giving us ? And do 
 you think it looks well to leave us in such a sulky frame 
 of mind ? In the first place, your time is not up yet, and 
 then I had another project for this evening, that you 
 and I should pay a visit to the Comedie-Franc,aise. The 
 plays are the Misanthrope and les Precieuses Ridicules. I 
 would take you back to the lycee in the morning and 
 straighten out matters with the authorities." 
 
BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MO LI ERE. IOI 
 
 I was strongly inclined to be heroic and refuse this un- 
 expected treat. But how could I ! Les Prfcieuses, le 
 Misanthrope! and I had been so long looking forward to 
 the pleasure that was now offered me ! 
 
 I thought that at all events I owed it to myself to 
 counterfeit indifference. 
 
 " Very well ; let it be as you desire," I said, resuming 
 my place at the table. 
 
 " Oh ! if my proposition is not agreeable to you, you 
 have only to say so," replied my father, who was not taken 
 in by my little comedy. " Perhaps, after all, you would 
 prefer to return to the lycee ? I don't know but it would 
 be the best thing for you to do." 
 
 " There, don't torment the child," said mamma, as she 
 poured our coffee for us, " and be off with you at once. 
 You will need to hurry to get there for the rising of 
 the curtain." 
 
 Dear little mother ! how I could have hugged her for 
 that speech ! But my dignity would permit no manifesta- 
 tion. I remained glued to my chair in gloomy grandeur. 
 
 "Albert," my father suddenly said, " seriously, I do 
 not desire your company unless it will be a pleasure to 
 you." 
 
 There was a sort of implied doubt in his accents which 
 went to my heart. 
 
 " Oh, father ! you cannot doubt it," I warmly said, 
 forgetful of my pose. 
 
 He looked at me with a tenderness in which there was 
 less sadness. 
 
 "That is well," he replied. "And now, if you in turn 
 wish to confer on me a very great pleasure, do you know 
 what you will do ? you will go and put on your uniform 
 for the visit to the theatre, as you were about to do for 
 
102 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 your return to the lycee. Call it a caprice if you will, but 
 I love you better in the tunic. It seems to me you are 
 more like my Albert, my dear little boy of yesterday, who 
 is in such a hurry to be a man and cut loose from my 
 authority." 
 
 " Nothing is easier," I murmured, a little discomfited. 
 " Full uniform ! your order shall be obeyed, sir. The 
 proctor himself can make no objection if we should meet 
 him in the corridors." 
 
 I ran up-stairs to my room to effect the transformation. 
 Five minutes later we were seated in a licensed coupe" and 
 on our way to the Rue de Richelieu. 
 
 Upon giving the matter due consideration, I could not 
 tell whether I ought to be pleased or angry. The pros- 
 pect of an evening at the Comedie-Frangaise instead of 
 returning to the lycee was certainly agreeable. But I 
 could not help thinking now and then of the verdict 
 delivered on my poetry, and it seemed to me very harsh. 
 How could I believe that Molecule, the author of an 
 epic poem in twenty-four cantos, had been so grossly at 
 fault as to the merit of my verse ? My father's mind 
 was probably prejudiced. Like all fathers, he did not 
 wish to see his son embark in the career of letters, and 
 his fears blinded him as to the beauties of Malediction. 
 Have not all great men had similar opposition to contend 
 with ? What poet was ever encouraged in his vocation by 
 his parents ? 
 
 Thus I communed with myself in my corner, while my 
 father, equally silent, peacefully smoked his cigar at the 
 other window. 
 
 But here we are, under the peristyle of the theatre, and 
 without delay are ushered to our places in the fourth row 
 of the orchestra. We have hardly time to cast a glance 
 
BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MO LI ERE. 1 03 
 
 around the house. The curtain rises, Alceste and Philinte 
 appear upon the scene. 
 
 Laissez-moi la, vous dis-je, et courez vous cacher. . . 
 
 From the very opening speech the appropriateness and 
 masculine beauty of the language laid hold on me and bore 
 me away to the serene realms of classic art. Vanished, 
 my anger and ill-humour ! What ineffable delight to hear 
 from the lips of the best actors in the world those clear- 
 cut lines that had been familiar to me since childhood ! I 
 did not listen, I drank them in. My memory recited them 
 within me before they were spoken, and, so to speak, 
 prompted the actor who occupied the stage. 
 
 And now Oronte appears behind the footlights. Ah! 
 ah ! a coincidence I had not thought of ! He, too, is an 
 amateur poet, and his sonnet has been the means of getting 
 him into a scrape almost exactly similar to mine. Is it 
 possible that my father could have had the nefarious 
 design to ? I look at him out of the corner of my eye. 
 He is cool as a cucumber, and to all appearances wholly 
 absorbed in the action of the play. 
 
 Oronte reads his sonnet. A question Can it be that 
 I am as absurd as he when I communicate my inspirations 
 to the public ? Yes, alas, and probably a great deal more. 
 Oronte is a man of the world, and his manners are perfect. 
 I am but an ill-licked cub of a schoolboy. Oh, my illu- 
 sions ! It seems to me that I see myself imaged there on 
 the boards in one of those spherical mirrors that reproduce 
 in distorted shape all one's deformities. 
 
 PHILINTE. 
 
 Je n'ai jamais out de vers si bien tournes. 
 
 Molecule, parbleu ! It is Molecule in person. 
 
104 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 ORONTE. 
 
 Vous me flattez et vous croyez peut-etre. . . . 
 
 PHILINTE. 
 
 Non, je ne flatte point. . . . 
 
 ALCESTE. 
 
 Et que fais-tu done, traitre ? 
 
 Can it be possible that Molecule's object in praising my 
 poetry was simply to be " paid in the same coin ? " The 
 thought is horrible. Now it is Alceste's turn : 
 
 ALCESTE. 
 
 Monsieur, cette matiere est toujours delicate 
 Et sur le be I esprit nous aimons qu'on nous flatte. 
 Mais un jour a quelqu'un dont je tairai le nom, 
 Je disais, en voyant des vers de sa fa$on, 
 Qu'il faut gu'un galant homme ait toujours grand empire 
 Sur les demangeaisons qui lui prennent d^ecrire ; 
 QuHl doit tenir la bride aux grands empressements 
 Qu'on a de faire e"tat de tels amusements ; 
 Et que par la chaleur de montrer ses outrages 
 Ou s' expose a jouer de mauvais personnages. . . . 
 
 These terrible truths fall on my devoted head with the 
 crushing effect of so many blows of a bludgeon. I am 
 as red as if the whole house knew that it was on my 
 miserable back that the lash of the satirist was descend- 
 ing. But that is not all. 
 
 . . . Quel besoin si pressant avez-vous de rimer, 
 Et qui diantre vous pousse a vous faire imprimer ? 
 Si I" 1 on peut pardonner lessor d" 1 un mauvais livre, 
 Ce n'est qu'aux malheureux qui composent pour vivre. 
 Croyez-moi, rtsistez a vos tentations. . . . 
 
 I am dead, excoriated, flayed alive. And the anger of 
 Oronte ! 
 
BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MO LI ERE. 1 05 
 
 ORONTE. 
 
 Et mot, je vous soutiens que mes vers sont fort bons / 
 
 What I said of mine, almost word for word ! And the 
 entire house is bubbling with laughter. The worst of the 
 business is that I am forced, in spite of myself, to join in 
 the universal merriment, although I cannot help thinking 
 that the laughter is intended for me. 
 
 As for my father, he mercifully refrains from looking 
 at me. I am unable to express my gratitude for his 
 forbearance. 
 
 Ugh ! At last the horrible scene is ended. The curtain 
 falls on the first act. 
 
 " I like M. - extremely in the role of Oronte," my 
 father observes. " He acts with perfect naturalness, and 
 his pained surprise when Alceste tells him some unpleas- 
 ant truths is exceedingly comic." 
 
 I would like to say a word or two in reply, but cannot 
 compass it. I am as if crushed, annihilated. A great 
 convulsion has occurred within me, and all my strength 
 is gone. The three raps are heard behind the curtain, 
 fortunately, and the second act begins. That is the usage 
 at the Theatre - Fran^ais, when classic plays are acted. 
 The entr' actes are only of sufficient length to permit 
 the necessary changes in the scenery, which is generally 
 extremely simple. I like the custom ; it is in harmony 
 with the respect due to the masterpieces of our national 
 literature, and the spectator's interest in the play is not 
 allowed to cool. Watch him, and see how heartily he 
 applauds, how he enters heart and soul into the fable of 
 the poet, how he identifies himself with the hero ! 
 
 In the mood that I was in, this uninterrupted flow of 
 brilliant repartee and elegant periods did me more good 
 
106 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 than I can tell. The sufferings of my wounded vanity 
 were gradually alleviated. I yielded myself to the charm 
 of the simple and logical action, I gave myself up to the 
 soothing influence of the harmonious verse. The denoue- 
 ment came like the entrance of a stately ship into her 
 haven. As the curtain fell for the fifth time on these 
 words of Alceste, 
 
 . . . Et je m'en vais chercher un endroit e"carte 
 Oil d'etre homme d^honneur on ait la liber te", 
 
 it seemed to me that I was emerging from another life 
 and returning to myself, after having been successively 
 Alceste, Philinte, Oronte, Acaste, and Clitandre. 
 
 " Well, how did you enjoy it ? " asked my father. 
 
 "Wasn't it magnificent!" was all the answer I could 
 make. " What a pity that that is all ! " 
 
 " But that is not all. There is the Precieuses Ridicules 
 to come yet 
 
 The joyous laughter there was this time when the 
 curtain rose on the dwelling of old man Gorgibus, and 
 how one almost seemed to see the sparkle of the wit 
 as the good things fell thick and fast from the lips of 
 Mascarille ! I entered into the spirit of the performance 
 with such zest that it did not occur to me to apply to 
 myself a certain passage that fitted my case only too 
 accurately : 
 
 MASCARILLE : Such as you see me, I dally a little with the 
 Muse, when I feel disposed that way, and you may see circulating in 
 the boudoirs of Paris, written by this right hand, two hundred songs, 
 as many sonnets, four hundred epigrams, and more than a thousand 
 madrigals, to say nothing of portraits and enigmas. 
 
 MADELON : I must tell you that I just dote on portraits ; I think 
 there is nothing more gallant. 
 
" SOMETHING IN ME SEEMS TO HAVE GIVEN WAY." 
 
BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MO LI ERE. 1 09 
 
 M ASCARILLE : Portraits are difficult ; they call for great percep- 
 tive powers. You shall see some after my manner that will not 
 offend your taste. 
 
 CATHOS : I am awfully fond of enigmas, for my part. 
 
 MASCARILLE: They sharpen the understanding, and I made 
 four this very morning which I will give you to decipher. 
 
 MADELON : Madrigals are agreeable, when they are ingeniously 
 turned. 
 
 MASCARILLE : That is the very thing I most excel in ; why, I 
 am at work now putting the entire Roman history into madrigals ! 
 
 All that reads charmingly, as I had long been aware. 
 But how differently it sounded from the lips of the con- 
 summate artists whom I had before me ! As interpreted 
 by them, the lines breathed a drollery, a subtlety, a 
 profound philosophy whose existence had hitherto been 
 unsuspected. I laughed ; I laughed until I thought I 
 should never leave off, and at the same time I was con- 
 scious of a certain feeling of respect. I was not tempted 
 to contemn that which gave me pleasure, as is so frequently 
 the case. When the cudgels began to play and the blows 
 fell hot and heavy on the backs of Mascarille and his 
 friend, Jodelet, I felt a personal grievance against those 
 great boobies, Lagrange and Ducroicy, for breaking up 
 such a charming dance and interrupting so brilliant a 
 conversation. 
 
 But now the end was really come. It was nearly 
 midnight, and time for us to be thinking of home and bed. 
 
 "What do you say to walking as far as the Cours-la- 
 Reine ? " my father proposed to me. " A bath of fresh 
 air won't do us any harm after being shut up so long in 
 that sweat-box." 
 
 The gas-lamps stretched away before us in long perspec- 
 tive as we pursued our way down the Rue de Rivoli and 
 
110 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 the Champs-Elysees. The influence of the various emo- 
 tions I had so lately undergone remained with me, and 
 made me silent, and my father, who had always cherished 
 the deepest veneration for our great comic poet, was no 
 less moved than I. It was not until we reached the Palais 
 de 1' Industrie that the silence was broken. 
 
 "Well," my father suddenly said, "do you think that 
 upon the whole your evening has been as pleasant as if you 
 had spent it with your friend Lecachey ? " 
 
 " Oh, father ! how can you ask me such a question ? 
 You know very well that I shall never have a dearer friend 
 than you 
 
 I had taken his hand, and, walking by his side, I squeezed 
 it as I had been used to do when a little child. The 
 warmth and spontaneity of the impulsive action pleased 
 him. He responded to my clasp and walked on a 
 little way, in silence. Then, pursuing his train of 
 thought : 
 
 " I do not doubt your affection, my dear son, and God 
 grant I may never be obliged to do so," he said, with a 
 gravity that impressed me. " But you must admit that for 
 several Sundays lately you have neglected us a little, and 
 have gone outside in quest of distractions less wholesome 
 than those you find in the bosom of your family. Unfavour- 
 able reports reach me from various quarters of your com- 
 rade, Lecachey, you will tell me that it was I who was 
 the means of bringing you together ; I have discovered 
 since that it was not the best thing I might have done. 
 The more I see of his family the less I like their ways and 
 mode of life. I am told that all the young man thinks of 
 is racing, horses, and betting. If he attends the classes 
 of the lycee, my informant added, it is more for the name 
 of the thing than with any desire to profit by the instruc- 
 
BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL OF MO LI ERE, III 
 
 tion that is dispensed there. He is eighteen years old and 
 has not even his bachelor's diploma 
 
 "And that is not the worst, for it is extremely doubtful 
 if he has it when he is nineteen," I could not help 
 remarking. 
 
 "It is too bad," my father went on, "and I cannot 
 applaud myself for having once recommended such a com- 
 panion to my son. I have sometimes thought that it was 
 a real misfortune for you that you and Baudouin should 
 ever have been parted." 
 
 " Oh, how true that is ! " I cried, effusively. " I was so 
 accustomed to share with him my tasks, my pleasures, my 
 most secret thoughts, that I feel a sense of incompleteness 
 now he is no longer with me. He was my strength, my 
 joy, my living conscience ! So honest, so brave, so good, 
 so sensible ! Ah, friends like Baudouin are scarce, and now 
 that I have lost him I feel how necessary he was to me ! " 
 
 " My dear boy, I am pleased to see you appreciate your 
 friend in accordance with his desert, but permit me to call 
 your attention to the confession of weakness implied in 
 your words. Is it manly to give way to discouragement 
 and subside into inactivity because the comrade whom you 
 looked up to as an example and support is no longer with 
 you ? Because you can no longer exchange with him that 
 commerce of emulation and mutual good offices which had 
 become a second nature to you, should you abandon your- 
 self to the hazards of a vulgar intimacy with a lazy, worth- 
 less blockhead ? It is in your own sentiment of duty, in 
 the knowledge of what you owe to your family and to 
 yourself, that you should look for strength to enable you 
 to follow the right path." 
 
 Here my father paused to hail a passing coach, the driver 
 of which undertook to transport us to Billancourt. 
 
1 1 2 SCHOOLS O Y DA YS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "I acknowledge the justice of all you say," I said, as I 
 took my place in the coupe, "and I promise, my dear 
 father, to heed your words of warning. But how much 
 easier it was to tread that right path of which you speak 
 in company with Baudouin ! " 
 

 OF THE 
 :VERSITY 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 APPROACH OF AUTUMN. CAN I BELIEVE MY EYES ? 
 
 THE weather had been growing perceptibly colder 
 for some days past, and on returning to the school- 
 room one morning after the ten o'clock recess, we were 
 agreeably surprised to find a fire lighted in the stove. 
 
 Anselme, the attendant who had presided over this deli- 
 cate operation, was a favourite with all hands. He had 
 lingered to receive our thanks, and when we came trooping 
 in from the playground with a collection of beautifully blue 
 noses, was standing erect in the middle of the room. 
 
 " A fire ! a fire ! " was the intelligence that immediately 
 spread through the ranks. 
 
 " Anselme, that was a glorious idea ! " 
 
 " Bravo, Anselme ! " 
 
 "Three cheers for Anselme! " 
 
 " Messieurs, 1 propose that we vote Anselme has 
 deserved well of the country!" 
 
 The good fellow, delighted with this annual demonstra- 
 tion, which he prized as highly as if it had not been re- 
 peated by some fifteen or twenty previous generations of 
 students, was laughing and showing all his teeth, when 
 suddenly his honest satisfaction was frozen by a shriek of 
 anguish. 
 
 It was from Molecule that the shriek proceeded. 
 
I 14 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " My papers ! What have you done with what was in 
 the stove ? " he faltered, in a voice that was hardly articu- 
 late, addressing Anselme. 
 
 " Faith, I laid M. Valadier's skull-cap, slippers, and 
 alpaca sleeves upon his desk," the poor fellow contritely 
 answered, " but as for the papers you speak of, I looked at 
 them and saw they only contained poetry, so I used them 
 to light my fire 
 
 "Wretch! my epic poem! nine whole cantos that 
 only yesterday I confided to M. Valadier ! " Molecule 
 feebly murmured, reeling under the dreadful blow. 
 
 He tottered on his little legs, and I feared he was 
 about to fall in a faint. But suddenly, his rage over- 
 mastering him, as if under the impulsion of a spring, 
 he hurled himself on Anselme, and caught him by the 
 throat. 
 
 " Speak, brute ! Vandal ! Omar of modern times ! You 
 cannot have burnt all ! Speak : where is the rest ?" 
 
 " Mon Dieu, monsieur, I am awfully sorry," said the 
 poor man. " But the kindling wood was damp, you know, 
 seeing as how we have to keep it in the cellar, and it took 
 me more than half an hour to get the fire started. And 
 when I looked and saw the poetry, I thought it must 
 be somebody's old exercise, and then I used it. Oh ! " 
 he suddenly exclaimed, rummaging in his pockets, "per- 
 haps there may be some little of it left 
 
 A ray of hope rose to Molecule's despairing eyes. 
 
 Anselme consumed as much as two or three minutes in 
 going through his clothes. He produced, successively, a 
 fragment of newspaper, a knife with a buckhorn handle, 
 a box of matches, a calico pocket - handkerchief, a ball of 
 twine, a lamp -wick, some steel pens, an extraordinarily 
 greasy pass-book, two or three nails, a short pipe, admi- 
 
"MOLECULE'S LITTLE LEGS GAVE WAY BENEATH 
 
APPROACH OF AUTUMN. I I/ 
 
 rably coloured, an india-rubber tobacco pouch, a bunch of 
 keys, and finally a bundle of letters. 
 
 " Those are letters from the folks at home," he said, re- 
 placing the bundle in his pocket. 
 
 The search began afresh, and resulted in the exhuma- 
 tion of a small volume entitled " Cook-book for Every Day 
 in the Year," a pack of playing cards, a brass thimble, and 
 a corkscrew. There was no vestige of the lost epic, 
 however. 
 
 "Ah! what a stupid ass I am!" exclaimed Anselme, 
 smiting his forehead. 
 
 He plunged his hand into the capacious pocket of his 
 blue apron, and this time brought to light two or three 
 sticks of kindling wood, a half-burned faggot, and a sheet 
 of writing-paper, all torn and rumpled. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, triumphantly, " I knew there must be 
 a little bit of it left somewhere !" 
 
 And sure enough, on the scrap of paper, traced in Mole- 
 cule's most superlative writing, were the words : END OF 
 CANTO VII. 
 
 " All doubt is at an end ! the wretch has destroyed the 
 fruit of my midnight labours ! " cried the unhappy 
 author. 
 
 He had dropped upon a bench, and was holding his 
 head in his hands in an attitude of poetic despair. 
 
 "O Camoens ! " he murmured, " to thee, at least, it was 
 given to preserve thy manuscript from the wreck, holding 
 it aloft above the raging billows, while thou didst swim 
 to land ! But my calamity, what tongue or pen shall 
 describe it ! Avenging Furies, what punishment shall be 
 meted out to the obscure myrmidon, the odious famulus 
 who wounded me in all that I had dearest ? " 
 
 Molecule had risen to his feet. 
 
Il8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Yes, I will be avenged ! " he roared, striding up to 
 Anselme. " I will nail you by the ears to the pillory of 
 history ! I will vomit my burning indignation in iambics 
 that shall devote your memory to the execration of future 
 ages ! Your abhorred name shall be written in company 
 with that of Erostratus. I will hale you before the judg- 
 ment seat of posterity! " 
 
 Anselme, terrified by these imprecations, whose mean- 
 ing was not clear to him, but which by their vehemence 
 acted only the more strongly on his impressionable nature, 
 had gradually backed away toward the door. He now 
 made a precipitate rush through the convenient exit, and 
 disappeared in the corridor, thus, by flight, saving himself 
 from the immediate consequences of his crime. Such a 
 display of pusillanimity brought a smile to Molecule's 
 lips. His fury gave way to contempt. Drawing his 
 snuff-box from his pocket, he refreshed himself with a 
 hugh pinch, which appeared to exert a beneficial influence 
 on his nerves. 
 
 M. Valadier immediately took advantage of the cessa- 
 tion of hostilities, to beat a loud tattoo with his penholder 
 on his desk, thereby ordering us to our places, for we had 
 all remained grouped in the middle of the room, amazed 
 witnesses of the tragic scene. 
 
 This call to order, modest as it was, had an unforeseen 
 effect on Molecule, by directing his wrath against M. Vala- 
 dier. 
 
 "After all, it was wrong in me to be angry with An- 
 selme," he said, in a voice thick with passion. " Anselme 
 is but the object, and, doubtless, unconscious instrument 
 of some atrocious scheme of envy. A question that his- 
 tory will have the right to ask is, what motive could have 
 induced the man who had possession of my manuscript to 
 
APPROACH OF AUTUMN. 119 
 
 place it in a stove ! A strange receptacle for papers, one 
 would say ! And if it shall be proven that the man who did 
 this thing was a broken-winded poet, a starveling rhyme- 
 ster, an author without readers, what is the construction 
 that will be placed upon his conduct ? 
 
 Here M. Valadier's few remaining hairs could be dis-* 
 tinctly seen to rise in horror, and stand erect upon his head. 
 
 " That is a base and odious insinuation ! " he cried, 
 with the indignation of calumniated virtue, " an insinuation 
 that I cannot allow to pass unchallenged. Every one 
 knows that it has long been my custom to make the stove 
 a receptacle for such things as there was not room for 
 in my desk. But we will delay further explanations, 
 until a more suitable moment. To your tasks, young 
 gentlemen ! " 
 
 A second tattoo on the arm of his chair emphasized 
 this discourse, probably the longest that M. Valadier had 
 ever uttered in his life. Quiet was gradually restored, the 
 whispers subsided, and every one settled down to his work, 
 while poor Molecule sat holding his head in his hands, the 
 picture of despair. 
 
 At the end of a quarter of an hour or so, he gave signs 
 of life, and I saw him scribble a note, which was presently 
 handed to me. 
 
 " I have a favour to ask of you," it said. " You 
 mentioned to me one day that you intended to take the 
 word 'Aiupwy as your motto. I want you to relinquish 
 it to me, for it is to me, alas ! that such a motto is 
 now particularly appropriate." 
 
 " It gives me the more pleasure to grant your request," 
 I immediately replied, " that I had determined to sever my 
 connection with both poetry and despair. It is a bargain, 
 therefore 'Avcfyxj; is your property." 
 
120 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE 
 
 This sacrifice appeared to alleviate Molecule's suffering 
 a little. He proceeded to write the word, the right and 
 title to which I had abandoned to him in perpetuity, at 
 the head of a blank page, and made it the subject of his 
 iambics. He was evidently desirous to strike while the 
 iron was hot, and not let his indignation have time to cool. 
 
 At the noonday recess M. Valadier, still smarting under 
 the imputation that Molecule had cast upon him, insisted 
 on convoking a jury of honour.' Dutheil and I were en- 
 deavouring to appease his honourable susceptibilities and 
 make him understand that no one attached the least im- 
 portance to the words of our embryo poet, when suddenly 
 I felt two big hands laid on my eyes. 
 
 " Come, Thomereau, let up on your monkey tricks ! " I 
 said, as I struggled to release myself, convinced that it was 
 the chartered buffoon of the school I had to deal with. 
 
 The two hands were removed. I turned about. How 
 shall I express my stupefaction ? 
 
 Baudouin stood before me. 
 
 A cloud passed across my eyes. I thought they must 
 be deceiving me. 
 
 But I could not for long deny the evidence of my 
 senses. That tall young fellow in the well-worn uniform 
 of the Chatillon Academy, with brawny shoulders and a 
 pair of enormous side-whiskers that robustious youth 
 who stood regarding me with such frank and friendly eyes 
 and laughing at my discomfiture was indeed Baudouin, 
 Jacques Baudouin, the original and only Baudouin. 
 
 I commenced, naturally enough, by throwing my arms 
 about his neck. 
 
 After that came the exclamations. 
 
 " Well, I never ! Who would have thought it ! There 
 was a surprise a famous good one ! Just give me a 
 
APPROACH OF AUTUMN. 121 
 
 pinch, will you, that I may know I am not dreaming 
 
 And next the questions : 
 
 " What miracle was the cause ? What sudden de- 
 cision ? " 
 
 " This letter will tell you all," Baudouin finally said, 
 when he was given a chance to breathe. 
 
 He handed me a folded sheet of paper that he took from 
 his pocket. I instantly recognized my father's handwrit- 
 ing. Regardless of my inquisitive comrades who had 
 come and formed a circle round us, I hurriedly perused 
 the letter, which was addressed to Baudouin. This is 
 substantially what it said : 
 
 " MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND : I am going to ask from you, in Al- 
 bert's name, a very great sacrifice, nothing less than your freedom. 
 You are at Bourgas, I hear, with your excellent mother, and have 
 not yet made up your mind as to a profession. I ask you to defer 
 your decision for the present and go and spend a supplementary 
 year with my son at the Lyce'e Montaigne. You need not worry 
 over the material aspect of the question ; I will be responsible for 
 your expenses, and if you insist on it you can reimburse me some 
 day when your labours shall have made you independent. I assure 
 you that in case you accept my proposition it will be I who shall be 
 your obligee. Your friendship for Albert has always exerted so 
 wholesome and beneficial an influence over him that I should not 
 hesitate to make much greater sacrifices to ensure him its continu- 
 ance. Do not then, I pray you, look at my proposition in any other 
 light than its true one, which is, on the one hand, to secure your com- 
 panionship for my son, and on the other to facilitate the completion 
 of your classic studies by giving you the inestimable advantage of a 
 year of rhetoric at Paris. It will not be your mother who will raise 
 objections, of that I am very certain. From what I know of her 
 love and devotion for her son, she will appreciate the immense ad- 
 vantage that must accrue to you in every way from this additional 
 year of study. So, let me hope that there may be nothing to prevent 
 the accomplishment of the plan which I submit to you, an'l if 
 there is not, please do not even give yourself the trouble to answer 
 
122 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 this, but get on the train and come straight to us at Billancourt. 
 Two hours later you will be at Albert's side. 
 
 "Yours most faithfully, 
 
 "J. B. BESNARD." 
 
 "You don't suppose that I needed to be asked twice ! " 
 Baudouin added, by way of commentary, when I had fin- 
 ished reading the letter. " I answered your father by 
 wire accepting his generous proposal, and set out immedi- 
 ately. I had meant to notify you of my coming, but on 
 second thought I concluded it would be better fun to 
 tumble in on you unawares, like a brickbat frtfm the 
 chimney. And here I am ! Mamma was n't altogether 
 pleased, though. She had counted on keeping me with 
 her indefinitely, and was already beginning to talk of 
 having me superintend the harvesting operations next 
 season. But she is never wanting when a sacrifice is to 
 be made, so she gave her consent and wrote a letter of 
 thanks to your father. As for you and me, our initial 
 harvest shall be laurels ! " 
 
 " Hum ! " said I, rather dubiously, " the season for 
 laurels is over, here ; at all events they are more difficult 
 to gather than at Chatillon-sur-Leze." 
 
 " Good ! you are probably going to tell me that these 
 Parisians can whip you in Latin Composition ! " Bau- 
 douin replied, who had unlimited faith in my literary 
 abilities. 
 
 " Whip me ! Do you know what my standing in the 
 class was yesterday ? Eighteenth ! And they are not all 
 Parisians, either, who are ahead of me. There are fellows 
 from Rouen, Grenoble, and Bordeaux ; there is one from 
 Chartres and another from Beziers - 
 
 "You don't tell me from Beziers, now?" Baudouin 
 interjected, incredulously. "Well, you'll never make me 
 
APPROACH OF AUTUMN. 123 
 
 believe but that if a man from Beziers outranks you it is 
 your own fault ! " 
 
 I was about attempting to combat this geographical 
 prejudice when Dutheil came up to us. 
 
 " You must really make Molecule understand how wicked 
 and absurd his conduct is," he said, apologizing for intrud- 
 ing on our conversation. " You are the only one he will 
 listen to, and M. Valadier is really feeling very badly over 
 the foolish business." 
 
 " Mon Dieu y I shall be only too glad if I can be of any 
 service," I said, having first introduced Baudouin and Du- 
 theil to each other. And at the same time I signalled 
 Molecule to come and join our party. 
 
 Like the rest of our comrades, he had watched with ex- 
 treme interest the reception accorded to the new arrival. 
 He came forward, therefore, without having to be invited 
 twice. I at once put him in good humour by presenting 
 him to Baudouin, with a glowing eulogy of his poetic talent. 
 That naturally afforded an opportunity of relating the 
 terrible calamity that French literature had suffered in his 
 person. 
 
 Baudouin, who had a spice of malice in his composition, 
 saw at once where the shoe pinched our little man. He 
 followed my lead, chorusing my sentiments, deplored the 
 accident much as he might have bewailed the destruction 
 of the Iliad, and played his part so well that in less than 
 ten minutes the delighted Molecule had promised to dedi- 
 cate his forthcoming poem to him. 
 
 "Well, now," I said to Baudouin at this juncture, " I '11 
 bet you cannot guess what notion this young man of genius 
 has taken in his head ? " 
 
 " What do you allude to ? " asked Molecule, rather anx- 
 iously. 
 
124 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FKANCE. 
 
 " He has conceived the idea that his manuscript was 
 burned intentionally, from spite, and whom do you think 
 he accuses of such a turpitude ? Why, M. Valadier, our 
 usher, whom you see standing over there, a most worthy 
 man, and himself a poet." 
 
 " Faith, I can understand perfectly that such an idea 
 should have presented itself to monsieur in the first mo- 
 ment of his surprise and grief," Baudouin replied, with the 
 utmost seriousness. " There is nothing extraordinary in 
 that. In such hours of trial one is inclined to suspect the 
 whole world. But it would be a great surprise to me if a 
 man of feeling, as a true poet cannot help but be, should 
 hesitate a moment, after his first angry impulse had spent 
 its force, to acknowledge his mistake and tender a fitting 
 apology." 
 
 Molecule had bowed his head under this indirect reproof. 
 He recognized its justice, for he was naturally good-hearted, 
 and had more vanity than malice in his make-up. 
 
 " Well," he suddenly spoke up, " it shall not be said that 
 I was wanting to my duty. I will go this instant and 
 make my excuses to M. Valadier, and before the whole 
 class, too ! " 
 
 He was as good as his word, like the brave little man 
 he was. As for poor M. Valadier, tears stood in his eyes 
 under their bristling brows. 
 
 And thus it was that Baudouin' s first appearance at the 
 Lycee Montaigne was marked by a good action. 
 
OF THE 
 
 rjNI^ ERSITT 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE. 
 
 " '"T^HERE, be off with you, and go and have a look at 
 A Paris ! " my father said to us after breakfast on 
 the morning of the first Sunday succeeding Baudouin's 
 arrival. 
 
 It was not necessary to repeat the command. 
 
 It was a gray day but dry such weather as invites to 
 walking and physical activity. We followed the high road 
 until we came to the Point - du - Jour, where we turned off 
 and regained the bank of the Seine. 
 
 One of the little omnibus steamers that ply on the river 
 came along just then ; we jumped aboard. Baudouin was 
 delighted, and I no less so. The air was cool, a nipping 
 little breeze fluttered the rag that floated at the diminutive 
 craft's stern as if it had been a real flag. The screw 
 revolved with its regular chug -chug. By straining the 
 imagination a little we might have thought we were 
 aboard a blue water ship, coming into harbour after a long 
 voyage. There were few passengers on deck ; at that 
 hour the current of excursionists was setting from Paris, 
 not returning to it. 
 
 Baudouin continually plied me with questions which I 
 was only too delighted to answer. 
 
 " What is that dome yonder ? " 
 
 "The dome of the Invalides." 
 
126 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " And that huge edifice of iron and glass ? " 
 
 "The Palais de 1'Industrie. Then come the Quai d' 
 Orsay, the Palais Bourbon, the Obelisk towering above the 
 Place de la Concorde, which is invisible to us, and last of 
 all, the Louvre. 
 
 Scarcely has the magic word passed my lips when 
 Baudouin cries : 
 
 " The Louvre ! Is it open to visitors to-day ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then let us go ashore. Come, make haste ! I have 
 been aching this ever so long to see its contents." 
 
 The purring little steamer makes her landing. We cross 
 the gang-plank ; here we are on the quay, here are the Gate 
 of the Lions and the great court of the Carrousel. 
 
 " The Museum ? " 
 
 "To the right, messieurs, those steps that you see 
 yonder." 
 
 Baudouin does not walk, he runs. Before he has even 
 climbed the steps he is quite pale with emotion and 
 delight. 
 
 We pass rapidly through the vestibule, with its noble 
 gallery of statuary. 
 
 It is very fine, but we will not linger ; let us ascend the 
 grand staircase without turning to look behind ; let us not 
 be seduced by the terra-cottas of the Campana collection, 
 and hasten on to the hall of the Seven Chimneys 
 
 " You must have been here before, you are so well 
 acquainted with the localities ! " I cannot help remarking 
 to Baudouin. 
 
 " I ? You well know that I have not. But for the last 
 six days I have been studying the plan of the Louvre in my 
 guide-book Hush! there are Gericault's Raft of the 
 Medusa and Wounded Cuirassier ! " 
 
THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE, I2/ 
 
 " How beautiful ! What strength ! " 
 
 It is I who hazard that remark ; Baudouin's feelings are 
 too deep for utterance. He stands there with dilated eyes 
 and teeth closely set, admiring with all the strength of his 
 being, drinking in deep draughts of the terrible poetry that 
 exhales from those two wondrous pictures. 
 
 Meantime I am observing the cheerful wood fire burning 
 on the hearth, the perfect order and arrangement of the 
 room, the liveried guardians with their grave and diplo- 
 matic air, all those sumptuous accessories that constitute 
 a setting worthy of the great works of art. But as for him, 
 he sees only the pictures, one canvas at a time, a canvas 
 that punctures the wall, as he expresses it. 
 
 After the Gericaults it is Girodet's Deluge, that cluster 
 of human beings clinging desperately to a breaking branch ; 
 it is his touching Atala at the Tomb, and that Slumber of 
 Endymion, so replete with grace and religious sentiment, 
 that one after the other receive the adoration of my 
 friend. 
 
 To these succeed the tragic Justice Pursuing Crime by 
 Proudhon, the Sabines by David, the Battle of Eylau by 
 Gros, and the humbler but interesting efforts of Gerard, 
 Drouais, Sigalon, and Mme. Vigee-Lebrun. 
 
 We have been there more than an hour, and I have made 
 the circuit of the room eight or ten times. Baudouin 
 would remain until the morrow, but I finally succeed in 
 dragging him away. Walking at my side he murmurs dis- 
 jointed words : 
 
 " How content I am ! How content I am ! It exceeds 
 my expectations a thousand fold ! " 
 
 Our eyes are dazzled with a gorgeous display of gold, 
 crystal, marble, onyx, Sevres ware, gems, enamels, silver 
 carvings. It is the Gallery of Apollo. 
 
128 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 We will pass on without pausing before those cabinets. 
 We will pass on without bestowing a glance on that ador- 
 able window which has witnessed so many bloody and 
 appalling tragedies. Let us pass on and not so much as 
 raise our eyes to Delacroix's marvellous ceiling, that satur- 
 nalia of light and colour so worthy of the day god whom it 
 represents ; should Baudouin perceive it he could not be 
 prevailed on to leave the spot. To the pictures. It is to 
 the Salon Carre that I desire to introduce him. 
 
 The Wedding of Cana ! Where shall I find words to de- 
 scribe Baudouin 's raptures at sight of that admirable fete ! 
 It fortunately happened that the round sofa in the middle 
 of the room was unoccupied. He dropped upon it rather 
 than sat down, like one stricken with vertigo. Then all at 
 once I saw a smile appear upon his face. All his features 
 were relaxed and illumined by a tender light. 
 
 " What delicious music ! " he softly murmured. 
 
 I, a profane outsider, supposed that he referred to the 
 concert which is being given in the foreground of the pic- 
 ture by the person in the white dalmatic playing on the 
 viol, and who is no other than Veronese in person, assisted 
 by Titien performing on the bass-viol and Tintorette on 
 the flute. 
 
 "Can you hear it?" I asked, half in earnest, half in 
 jest. 
 
 He did not condescend to turn to answer me. 
 
 " And you, can you not hear it ? " he said, with sup- 
 pressed feeling. " Can you not see all the persons live, 
 talk, and move in that enchanted atmosphere ? Do you 
 not hear the clatter of the golden dishes, the soft steps of 
 the domestics, the hum of conversation, and, rising over 
 all like a continuous bass, the voluptuous strains of the 
 viol ? Ah ! where does a man find inspiration to achieve 
 
THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE. 129 
 
 a work like that ! It makes one despair of ever accom- 
 plishing anything beautiful and grand ! " 
 
 He ceased and remained sunk in deep reflection. 
 
 I respected his abstraction for a time. Then, seeing 
 that he made no effort to rouse himself, I determined to 
 try the effect of a diversion. I forced him to rise and 
 make the tour of the salon with me, pausing in succession 
 before the canvasses of Raphael and Correggio, Andrea 
 del Sarto's Holy Family, Murillo's Assumption, and the 
 magnificent Charles /. by Van Dyck. 
 
 To all these chefs a" ceuvre Baudouin gave a look and 
 made a reverence. But soon he came back to the 
 Wedding of Cana. 
 
 The Duke of Ferrara by Titien and the canvasses of 
 Philippe de Champaigne detained him longer. Gerard 
 Dow's Dropsical Woman occupied his attention for five 
 minutes, and I thought I was really going to win the day 
 when I saw him stop in protracted contemplation before, 
 first, Leonardo da Vinci's Monna Lisa, and afterward the 
 wonderful Concert by Giorgione. 
 
 But again he returned, as if drawn by an invincible 
 magnet, to the Wedding of Cana. I should be afraid to 
 say how many times I was an amused spectator of these 
 oscillations, but the performance was repeated at least 
 ten or twelve times. 
 
 " It has become a disease with you," I said to him at 
 last, laughingly ; " you must have change of air." 
 
 He did not object overmuch when I led him away to 
 the Hall of the Seven Masters. But his heart was in the 
 Salon Carre, and it was doubtful if he had any very defi- 
 nite perception of the canvasses that were presented to 
 his view. It was not until he reached the great gallery 
 and found himself in presence of Velasquez's Infanta and 
 
I 30 SCHOOLED Y DA YS IN FRANCE. 
 
 Watteau's Embarkation that he found his tongue again. 
 Then, when we came to where the Rubens collection was 
 displayed, he sank into another dumb ecstasy of admiration. 
 
 The condition into which these aesthetic emotions 
 plunged him was unlike anything I had ever seen before 
 or was destined to see after. As is the case with every 
 one, it has frequently happened me at the Louvre and at 
 Rome, Florence, Naples, Munich, Madrid, to be struck by 
 the beauties of a work of art and devote a long time to 
 its inspection ; as with every one, it has been my privilege 
 to encounter, either in the museums or at expositions, 
 more or less earnest amateurs in raptures before a paint- 
 ing ; I have witnessed many curious and striking scenes, 
 many comedies that were simply grotesque. I have seen 
 great critics take notes, wielding their pencil as if it had 
 been a sceptre, and Englishwomen with corkscrew ring- 
 lets give themselves a crick in the neck by dint of gazing 
 up at a ceiling painted by a tyro. Never, however, have 
 I seen anything at all comparable to the sort of mild 
 lunacy that overcame my friend Baudouin at sight of all 
 those masterpieces. 
 
 It was not his moral nature alone that was affected, but 
 his physical as well. There were times when I could see 
 him tremble with emotion, and, if he chanced to touch me 
 with his hand, it almost burned me. He laughed, he 
 cried, he darted forward, he hung back, standing like one 
 in a trance. 
 
 There can be no doubt that in his case there existed an 
 extraordinary sensibility to artistic impressions, and one 
 of the chief functions of a museum is to discover such 
 exceptional predispositions. 
 
 I took advantage of his abstraction to turn him in the 
 direction of the French School. The profound tranquil- 
 
THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE. 131 
 
 lity of the Lesueurs appeared to exert a soothing influence 
 on his fever, and the immense works of Lebrun com- 
 pleted the work of restoring him to his senses. He was 
 soon in a condition to talk reasonably on what we had seen. 
 
 " Where could my wits have been when I hesitated as 
 to choice of a profession ? I will be a painter, parbleu ! 
 So that is settled." 
 
 " Good ! You say that because we have seen only the 
 pictures thus far. Wait until we come to the antiques." 
 
 " True ! there is the statuary ; I had not thought of 
 that. Come on ; let 's go there now." 
 
 I think Baudouin would not have been sorry to return 
 by way of the Salon Carre ; but I felt I could not trust 
 him, and, on leaving the Hall of the Seven Chimneys, 
 directed his steps toward the collections of Grecian vases 
 and Egyptian antiquities. 
 
 Steering a rapid course past these seductive reefs and 
 shoals, we came to the northern staircase of the colonnade, 
 descending which we found ourselves in the basement 
 among the rooms devoted to Africa and Magnesia, the 
 halls of Eygptian and Assyrian sculpture, and the collec- 
 tions of Greek antiquities from Asia Minor. 
 
 His enthusiasm increased with every step he took. 
 Before we had come to the Gladiator he had made a 
 burnt offering, one by one, on the altar of statuary of 
 almost all the gods of painting. 
 
 When, finally, we stood before this chef-d'oeuvre, the 
 auto-da-fe was consummated. As had happened on the 
 floor above, in the Salon Carre, Baudouin would see 
 nothing else. It almost required an exertion of force 
 to lead him to the Psyche, the Adonis, the Medea, and 
 through the corridor of Pan to the Roman rooms and the 
 collection of the Caesars. 
 
132 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 But here, again, he appeared cold and inattentive, and 
 turned back, instinctively, to the beautiful Greek athlete, 
 who will remain for all time the marvel of anatomical 
 marvels. 
 
 I had my little surprise in readiness, and allowed myself 
 to be conducted toward the colossal Melpomene. 
 
 Turning suddenly to the left, I raised a curtain of red 
 velvet, and, at the bottom of the sanctuary that had been 
 set apart for her, the Venus of Milo appeared to us in her 
 divine loveliness. 
 
 I shall never forget the overwhelming effect that the 
 sudden vision produced on Baudouin. When I saw how 
 matters were with him, I almost regretted that I had sub- 
 jected him to such a shock. It was more than admiration 
 that was depicted on his countenance ; it was something 
 bordering on terror. 
 
 With fixed and staring eyes, his mouth wide open, 
 emotion clutching at his throat, his hands extended before 
 him, he remained for some moments as motionless as the 
 statues in the gallery. Finally, he gave utterance to an 
 exclamation that was picturesque by reason of its very 
 triviality : 
 
 " Ah ! this beats all ! " 
 
 I saw that this time he was under the influence of an 
 inspired delirium, which it behooved me to respect. 
 
 " Sit down there," I said, pushing him down on one of 
 the divans, "and admire her at your leisure." 
 
 Then, without another word, I stole away and left him 
 to his contemplation. I had heard my mother say that 
 one who desires to extract the utmost of pleasure from 
 such occasions needs to be alone. Catalogue in hand, I 
 strolled away to the end of the gallery, of which I made 
 the tour with leisurely steps. 
 
*' THE VENUS OF MILO APPEARED BEFORE THEM." 
 
THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE. 135. 
 
 When I returned to the shrine of the goddess, Baudouin, 
 as I had anticipated, had not moved. He had remained 
 in the place where I had seated him, lost, drowned, dead 
 to everything but his rapture. 
 
 " Come ! this is enough for the present," I said, taking 
 him affectionately by the arm. " Do you know that you, 
 have been sitting here nearly an hour ? " 
 
 " Don't make sport of me," he said, passing his hand 
 across his eyes. " I- am so happy ! Ah, is n't it glorious, 
 Albert, is n't it glorious ! That is all I can find to say* 
 I have seen photographs and plaster copies without num- 
 ber of this divine original ; but how poor they all are 
 beside the statue ! " 
 
 " Good ! those are the identical observations you were 
 making a while ago in regard to Paul Veronese's reat 
 picture ! " 
 
 "The Veronese!" cried Baudouin; "indisputably it 
 possesses motion, warmth, life. It is a magnificent work, 
 adorable, all that a painting can be, in fine ; but this, 
 my dear fellow, it is beauty incarnate, eternal, super- 
 human !" 
 
 "Well, you will have opportunities of seeing it again. 
 But you want to save a little of your enthusiasm for the 
 moderns, which we have not inspected yet." 
 
 " No ; it is ended. I can look at nothing more to-day. 
 Let us go away, please ; I am all unstrung. I feel as if I 
 needed air." 
 
 We directed our steps toward the Champs - filyse'es, 
 intending there to take the Versailles road homeward* 
 It was nearly four o'clock, and night was descending 
 rapidly from the December sky. The cold, keen air* 
 stung our faces and sent the blood coursing through our 
 veins as we pursued our way. 
 
136 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 Baudouin was in an indescribable state of exaltation. 
 The young fellow, usually so calm and self-contained, was 
 no longer master of himself. He took long strides, his 
 eyes flashed, his cheeks were scarlet, he talked incessantly. 
 
 " It is decided ! I will be a sculptor ! Nothing shall 
 prevent me. It is not worth while to contend against 
 what one feels to be his vocation, don't you see ? There 
 is nothing else in all the world that I feel an interest in. 
 I told you so six years ago, don't you remember, when we 
 first discussed the matter in our walks." 
 
 " Yes, but you also told me that you meant to select a 
 calling that should not inflict further expense on your 
 mother, and I have an idea that there are few, if any, 
 careers that are more costly than the sculptor's, think 
 of th,e length of time one has to wait before any results 
 are obtained." 
 
 " I don't care ! Don't talk to me of such details. I 
 will eat clay if necessary, like the savages of Terra del Fu- 
 ego, or I won't eat at all, or I will ply a trade, no matter 
 what, in the morning, that I may model and design at 
 night ; but the matter is decided, I tell you ; I mean to be 
 a sculptor ! " 
 
 Our conversation on this subject was long drawn out. 
 We were as hot as ever when we reached home, and at 
 dinner were unable to converse on any other theme. My 
 father listened, with a thoughtful air. 
 
 " So, you would be a sculptor ! " he finally said to Bau- 
 douin. " It is a noble ambition. But for your own and 
 your mother's welfare, think twice before embarking on so 
 perilous a venture. Do you know what one of those 
 works of bronze or marble that you admire so represents ? 
 It represents, at the very least, fifteen or twenty years 
 of persevering study, privations, failures ; the defeat "tof 
 
THE MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE. 137 
 
 thirty rivals, the death of ten others in one word, hell 
 on earth for one-half your life, and, possibly, a crust of 
 bread for the other half. Ah, my lad, if you had come in 
 contact with one of those terrible existences, as it has 
 been my lot to do on one or two occasions, you would 
 know something of the trials and sufferings that precede, 
 and often accompany to the end, the realization of a wish 
 like yours ! " 
 
 Baudouin entertained for my father the deepest respect, 
 united to the warmest affection. He was dismayed by 
 this distressing picture, and his head fell forward on his 
 chest. 
 
 From this time forth, he talked no more of being a 
 sculptor, but it is my opinion that he continued to think 
 of it none the less. 
 
 CF THE 
 
 ^**** . 
 
 f \& O 
 
 (UNIVERSITY; 
 
 Vic OF -" k 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 WINTER SPORTS. THINGS TALKED OF IN THE PLAY- 
 GROUND. A BEGINNING OF REHABILITATION. OF 
 
 THE DANGER OF FENCING WITHOUT A MASK. 
 
 BAUDOUIN'S presence at the lycee quickly produced 
 the beneficial effect on me that my father had 
 expected. The influence of that warm and generous 
 friendship restored me to my better self again. The eve- 
 ning at the Frangais had already shown me how inane 
 and ridiculous were my literary pretensions. Baudouin's 
 raillery cured me of my aspirations to be a swell. 
 
 He was without pity for Lecachey. His jealousy as- 
 sisting, for he had seen at the first glance who the sub- 
 stitute was whom I had nominated to fill his place in his 
 absence, he never missed an opportunity of calling my 
 attention to the foibles and imperfections of my elegant 
 friend. 
 
 But what completed my cure was the inclination for 
 manly exercises, which I had lost to some extent since my 
 arrival at Paris, and which revived under Baudouin's pre- 
 cept and example. ) The fencing lesson, {m which he and 
 Verschuren replaced the little dandy whose feeble wrists 
 were quick to tire) was the chief delight of our day. Not 
 that our teacher, M. Goudouneix, favoured us with much 
 variety. The worthy man would repeat the same thing 
 over and over for an hour on end : 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 139 
 
 " Come, monsieur, on guard ! You take the foil in 
 the right hand, the thumb lying flat along the handle, the 
 nails of the other fingers facing to the left. Don't grasp 
 the weapon with all your strength, hold it lightly between 
 the thumb and index finger, the forearm flexed, the elbow 
 against the side, the shoulder motionless, the wrist breast 
 high "\ 
 
 fAnd so he went on, in one monotonous, unvarying tone, 
 resuming his directions when I resumed the movement. 
 I cannot remember that he ever introduced any variations 
 into his tune, or that he ever added a word to his for- 
 mula as he had received it from the provost in the early 
 days of his regimental education. It was evidently con- 
 nected indissolubly in his mind with the theory and prac- 
 tice of fencing, and he considered it impossible to give Or 
 receive a thrust without the mental accompaniment of 
 that string of words. 
 
 And then there were the time-worn forms of speech, 
 that he regarded at the same time as the essence of fenc- 
 ing, and the supreme expression of French courtesy. 
 With what gravity he would teach us to say : 
 
 " After you, mossieu \ Excuse me, you first. Not I, 
 mossieu ! From obedience, then ! " 
 
 Then the sword lowered, the sword erect, the salute to 
 right, the salute to left, the three little taps for attention, 
 pan, pan, pan! and on guard -^J 
 
 [But all that was only a prelude to what was, in our eyes, 
 the all important business the assault. 
 
 How proud we were, when, our faces masked, and 
 breasts protected by the plastron, we were at last permit- 
 ted to take part in the mimic combat ! 
 
 "A hit!" 
 
 "No, only on the thigh." 
 
140 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Messieurs, you are losing your guard ! Come to 
 parade, if you please ; come to parade. You see your 
 adversary uncovered, and neglect to take advantage of 
 it." 
 
 How good we seemed to feel when we came back to 
 quarters, with very red faces, and our hearts thumping 
 with the excitement of the sham duel ! J\ 
 
 After awhile, our fencing and exercises in the gymna- 
 sium ceased to satisfy our needs. It was agreed that a 
 portion of our Sundays should be employed in cultivating 
 our muscular development. As soon as we had swallowed 
 our breakfast, off we posted to one of the great museums. 
 Then, after a space of two hours precisely, neither more 
 nor less, devoted to the enjoyment it was Baudouin him- 
 self who had the heroism to fix the limit we hurried 
 away to the garden of the Luxembourg to play at foot- 
 ball. 
 
 We had no difficulty in securing admission to one of the 
 small open-air clubs that practise this charming sport. 
 The members were for the most part young mechanics of 
 the neighbourhood, in nowise of an exclusive disposition. 
 Two or three eulogistic remarks on a well-managed rush, 
 and a few words indicating our interest in the game, sufficed 
 to break the ice ; this first advance made, we were invited 
 to throw off our coats and come down into the arena. 
 That resulted in our preferring a request to be allowed to 
 contribute our quota to the weekly expenses. In a word, 
 before three weeks had rolled by we were members in 
 good standing of the " Swallows," one of those clubs that 
 meet under the magnificent trees of the Luxembourg to 
 enjoy that noble exercise, and I venture to say that we 
 were not the inexpertest members, either. Baudouin, in 
 particular, soon acquired a merited reputation for the energy 
 
WINTER 
 
 and accuracy of his play, as well as for his unfailing good 
 nature. 
 
 On the stroke of four we would take the Crenelle omni- 
 bus and go home to eat our dinner, with what appetite 
 it is easy to imagine. 
 
 We also introduced the game in the playground of the 
 lycee, and although certain of our classmates scouted it at 
 first, as unworthy of big boys like us, it ultimately tri- 
 umphed over those one-sided notions. Every one soon 
 came to see that there was nothing like kicking the ball 
 as a remedy for cold toes in that frosty weather. 
 
 One of our earliest recruits was Payan, and it was not 
 long before he was one of the game's most enthusiastic 
 champions. 
 
 " For putting a man in trim for three or four hours 
 of differential calculus, it is ahead of everything!" he 
 said. 
 
 All our recreation time was not spent in active sports, 
 however. Often we preferred to pace the leaf - strewn 
 alleys and discuss the everlasting question, always full of 
 interest to us, the choice of a career. 
 
 " What are you going to be ? " was certainly the query 
 that was oftenest on our lips. 
 
 And nothing more natural when it is considered that, 
 collegians to-day, a few short months will see us launched 
 on life's stormy sea. There will be other things to think 
 of then than first or second place, a prize in Latin verse 
 or Greek composition. The great battle is about to open, 
 into which it behooves him who enters to go fully armed. 
 What are you going to be f The wonder is, not that the 
 question was asked in our familiar talks, but that it was 
 not asked more frequently. Is it not the encl and ultimate, 
 supreme conclusion of all our school training ? 
 
142 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The answers, it is hardly necessary to say, were of an 
 extremely miscellaneous nature. Humanity did not wait 
 for Horace to enunciate, in immortal verse, his famous 
 
 " Sunt qnos curricula ..." 
 
 to provide us with as infinite a variety of vocations as it 
 displays of feature and disposition. But what remains 
 most deeply impressed upon my memory in those discus- 
 sions, where so many dreams were given momentary sub- 
 stance, so many airy castles erected and demolished, is the 
 perfect gravity, the sincere patriotism displayed by all 
 of us. 
 
 True, each of us had his own personal preoccupation, 
 but it must be understood that the glory, might, and 
 grandeur of France occupied a place above and beyond all 
 else. There was not one of us who, in aiming at success, 
 did not desire it for the sake of his family in the first 
 place, and next for the sake of that larger family which is 
 the fatherland. 
 
 Our fault lay, not so much in lack of ardour in our 
 aspirations for the future, as in our inability to properly 
 adjust those aspirations to our strength. It is certain that 
 several of our number were seduced by the external attri- 
 butes of their chosen career. 
 
 Molecule, for instance, would have done far better to 
 try for a position in the administration of the finances - 
 for which he was particularly well qualified by reason of 
 his distinct handwriting, his correctness at figures, and his 
 great powers of application rather than to offend Minerva 
 by keeping on rhyming and producing epic poems that had 
 in them no more poetry than a trial balance. 
 
 Chavasse had indisputably more aptitude for degustation 
 than for the l^cole des Chartes, which he proposed enter- 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 143 
 
 ing on leaving the lycee, and he would have had an infinitely 
 better chance of making a name for himself in deciding on 
 the relative merits of the great cms of the Bordelais and 
 of Burgundy than in deciphering palimpsests. 
 
 I shall say nothing of those who would fain be doctors 
 and yet gave almost no attention to their physiology and 
 chemistry, lawyers, and totally neglected those incompar- 
 able models, Demosthenes and Cicero. 
 
 These ill-chosen and loosely fitting vocations were in 
 sharp contrast with those that had been selected after 
 mature deliberation, as in the case of Payan and Baudouin, 
 for example. Of all my old schoolfellows it was they who 
 were certainly the most successful ; most successful, I 
 mean, in filling the special role they had chosen for them- 
 selves in society, and, looking back upon the past, I can 
 attribute that success to no other cause than the generous 
 ardour with which from the very beginning they applied 
 themselves to their task. 
 
 Payan, who was preparing for the Ecole Polytechnique, 
 was not one of those who are content to be admitted and 
 then trust to the chances of the examinations to determine 
 the career which they are ultimately to pursue. He had 
 said to himself, / mean to be an engineer, the engineers 
 are those who stand highest in the class, and had gone 
 to work accordingly. 
 
 I well remember the day, when, striding up and down 
 the alleys of the courtyard, he opened his mind and told 
 us of his dreams ; and now that his noble ambition is real- 
 ized, I cannot refrain from admiring the clear judgment 
 and foresight that he then exhibited. 
 
 "This," he said, "is the age of industry ; it is its honour 
 and its mission. When all the mountains shall have been 
 tunneled, all the isthmuses pierced, all the marshes drained 
 
144 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE.- 
 
 and made productive, all the deserts explored and peopled, 
 all the nations united by one great railway system, we 
 shall certainly be nearer to the golden age. But that is 
 not what attracts me in the engineer's profession. What 
 I find in it to admire is the conflict constantly waged 
 between the spirit of mathematics and inert matter, the 
 subjugation of the material forces, which makes its power 
 the triumph of human genius. What might and majesty 
 of intellect are represented in the smallest mechanical 
 progress ! And the impulse that has been given to that 
 progress in the last two or three hundred years ! The 
 engineer penetrates the entrails of the earth to wrest its 
 treasures from it, he bridges seas, makes obedient servants 
 of the winds, and tames the lightning. His drills have 
 pierced the Saint Gothard, and to-morrow will pierce the 
 Himalaya ; his ocean cables bring New York and Calcutta 
 within reach of the humblest Parisian ; his great steam- 
 ships realize the enchanted carpet of the Thousand and 
 One Nights. Give him a pig of iron, he will convert it 
 into rails on which you will ride without a jolt from Paris 
 to St. Petersburg, cannon to defend your fireside, a 
 printing-press to disseminate among the people the won- 
 ders of art and the masterpieces of literature. What are 
 men to him, from the lowliest to the mightiest ? Agents, 
 mere tools, who could accomplish nothing without him, 
 who are strong only in his strength, and who, if he should 
 disappear, would immediately be reduced to the level of 
 the savages of Oceanica ! " 
 
 " Do you know," here exclaimed Dutheil, " that you are 
 really eloquent ! You quite take the conceit out of me, 
 whose humbler destination is the bar. Listening to you, 
 I should almost be tempted to throw the toga to the dogs ! 
 And yet, the science of the law is not without a grandeur 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 145 
 
 of its own. Everything in this world is not reduced to 
 the mere question of material interest and the triumph of 
 brute strength. There is a philosophy of life to be fath- 
 omed and formulated, necessary relations, as Montesquieu 
 says, to be deduced from the nature of things, the idea 
 of right and justice to be coined and put in circulation. 
 Confess that the r61e of the legist has a notability of its 
 own, to which you should not let yourself be blinded by 
 your brilliant visions." 
 
 "And the instructor of youth! " said I ; "do you not 
 think that his calling, too, is a glorious one ? You, Payan, 
 would subdue nature ; but is it not true that she frequently 
 remains intractable in face of the most heroic efforts, 
 and in the fierce conflict is not the engineer as often van- 
 quished as victorious ? You, Dutheil, speak of absolute 
 justice. But, when the legist descends from the serene 
 heights of speculation to put his theories in practice, do 
 you believe that he is always the faithful servant of that 
 austere mistress ? Has he not constantly to encounter 
 impracticabilities and conflicting laws ? Ah, how much 
 finer and nobler appears to me the r61e of the teacher in 
 his more modest sphere ! His malleable material is not 
 gold or iron ; it is man himself. He models after his own 
 image the generations to come, that is to say, the future 
 of the nation. According to the nature and the value of 
 his teachings, the country will to-morrow be powerful or 
 impotent, free or enslaved, happy or wretched. He 
 prepares history, he moulds the minds of men, he 
 breathes into the entire body of the people the breath 
 of moral life. That engineer, the soldier, the legist, of 
 whom you speak, it is he who creates them ; but for 
 him they would never put off their mental swaddling 
 clothes." 
 
146 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " And the artist ! " Baudouin broke in ; " what have you 
 to say of him ? I suppose he does not deserve a word of 
 mention, he who makes everything from nothing, who is 
 a creator in the widest acceptation of the term ! How 
 little he cares for your opinion, though ! Practical affairs 
 trouble him not, and the interests of the day and the 
 morrow are the least of his cares. His domain is the 
 infinite, his dream the absolute. With a stroke of his 
 powerful pinion he rises above humanity, its petty strifes, 
 and miseries, to lose himself in the contemplation of eter- 
 nal beauty and give expression to it in his works." 
 
 On such matters did we discourse without end, never 
 tiring of splintering lances in behalf each of his favourite 
 career. It is hardly necessary to say, however, that our 
 conversation did not always assume this philosophic char- 
 acter. Our discussions were oftener on more material 
 topics, examinations, age limits, and such matters. There 
 was no one about the lycee better posted than we were as 
 to the regulation details. We knew how many admissions 
 each Iyc6e had had last year to each school ; to what 
 choice his place on the graduation list entitled one ; the 
 number of vacant places there would probably be at the 
 ensuing promotion ; how many merits were required for a 
 given doctorate, and so forth. There were endless dis- 
 sertations on the relative importance of such and such 
 branches of study, and anecdotes innumerable of some 
 "old boy " whom the present members of Montaigne had 
 known in their day, and who was now at the Polytechnique, 
 the Centrale, or Saint -Cyr. 
 
 And then, besides, there were devices, alleged to be 
 infallible, and not always quite reputable, for "passing" 
 successfully, traditions of bygone examinations, and par- 
 ticulars, of more or less authenticity, concerning the exam- 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 147 
 
 iners. This one was gentle as a lamb, that one was just 
 the opposite. There was a certain M. Lefebvre, a veri- 
 table ogre ; he finished you off and picked your bones at 
 a single mouthful. As well own up deficient at once, when 
 one had to do with him. M. Lefebvre ! I never saw him, 
 I never had the honour of being " dished " by him, but I 
 can say that he often visited my boyish dreams, as the 
 image of all that was mightiest and most terrible. 
 
 A question that never failed to arouse our passions to a 
 violent pitch was the relative position of literature and 
 science to each other. It was our dispute of the ancients 
 and the moderns. Dutheil and Payan, particularly, had 
 terrific encounters on this ground. 
 
 To take the word of one of the most eminent of our 
 Taupins for it, the sciences alone were fit objects for the 
 occupation of a superior mind. Literature was, at best, a 
 harmless diversion, a rather childish recreation, within 
 reach of ordinary intellects. He would as lief as not have 
 spoken disrespectfully of Homer or Virgil. In any case 
 the fame of a Copernicus or a Lavoisier appeared to him 
 infinitely more glorious. But he had an adversary who 
 gave him as good as he sent. 
 
 In the eyes of Dutheil, on the other hand, the sciences 
 in general occupied a position of only secondary impor- 
 tance. The great monuments of human genius, histories, 
 epics, the drama, and the like, alone afforded profitable 
 and interesting objects of study. Very unjustly, as I 
 thought, he went to an excess directly the opposite of his 
 opponent's, and pooh-poohed the value of scientific dis- 
 covery. 
 
 " What do I care for an invention more or less ! " he 
 cried. " What is hidden to-day will be found to-morrow. 
 The sciences are a chain of logical deductions which are 
 
 UNIVERSITY. 
 
 OF 
 
148 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 bound to flow from man's civilization and his familiarity, 
 when sufficiently prolonged, with his natural surroundings. 
 Suppose all the sciences annihilated in some great cata- 
 clysm, in a few years, or, at ajl events, in a few centuries, 
 they will be reconstructed. Humanity will do as Blaise 
 Pascal did : it will suffice it to know the first two or three 
 theorems to deduce the rest. That has happened several 
 times ; it is perfectly certain, for instance, that the Egyp- 
 tians and Assyrians had as accurate a knowledge of geom- 
 etry as you have. That which, once it is lost, there is no 
 regaining, is the writings of a Homer, a Virgil, a Horace ; 
 they are the perfect expression, condensed into the space 
 of a few pages, of the soul and genius of a chosen race. 
 That expression you have no other way of knowing than 
 to possess the text, and if you suppose the text to have 
 perished, as in a conflagration like that of the library of 
 Alexandria, for instance, no human effort can restore it." 
 
 "Well, what of it ? " replied Payan. , " Do you suppose 
 that if the world should be deprived of the Iliad it would 
 be the worse for it ? The smallest improvement in the 
 valves of the air-pump is of far greater importance." 
 
 " There is just where you are mistaken ! " Dutheil hotly 
 rejoined. " The man who invents that or any other im- 
 provement is certainly a useful member of society ; he 
 contributes to our well-being, and thus far is entitled to 
 our gratitude. But after all, what is he but a wheel in the 
 machine, a mechanic of superior attainments, an animated 
 tool ? You cannot claim that he is a man of that broad 
 culture and universal wisdom which are only to be acquired 
 by patient study of the great writers. It is not without 
 reason that the pursuits of literature are given the singu- 
 larly apt name of the humanities. They alone, being the 
 mirror of eternal man, can serve to fashion complete men, 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 149 
 
 by impregnating them with the loftiest thoughts formu- 
 lated by the great minds of all ages. Newton, Copernicus, 
 Lavoisier, and the rest, vast as is the domain of their re- 
 search, are blind to all save that which is directly beneath 
 their eyes. It is reserved for a Homer, a Dante, a Shakes- 
 peare, a Moliere, to soar, not above the collective wisdom 
 of their time alone, but above the mass of man's attainments 
 of all time, to perfect its synthesis and hand it down to 
 us, often in a single word. And that is why I prefer, for 
 my part, until I see reason to change my mind, to live in 
 communion with them rather than in the intimacy of your 
 specialists. Show me a specialist, and I will show you an 
 illiberal, narrow-minded man." 
 
 " You do well to speak of limitations ! Compare the 
 domain of Newton, which is space, with the domain of 
 Moliere, which is the household of a Harpagon or the 
 feeble intellect of a M. Purgon " 
 
 "Just so, my dear fellow, but consider Moliere's pre- 
 science in painting so lifelike a portrait of you two hundred 
 years ago, in the Bourgeois Gentilhomme. You have but 
 to open the book, if you can spare the time from your 
 beloved equations, to see in it your specialists, each vaunt- 
 ing his own particular hobby and proclaiming its merits 
 from the housetops " 
 
 Nothing less than the beat of the drum sufficed to 
 restore peace and bring these breezy discussions to an 
 end. 
 
 To the despair of Molecule, whose rhymes seemed to 
 flow more copiously than ever after his disaster, I had 
 taken up my studies again with a determination to profit 
 by them subsequently to the renunciation of my poetic 
 ambitions, and my time at the lycee was spent to better 
 advantage than during the earlier months. My standing 
 
ISO SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 felt the influence of this changed condition of affairs. But 
 I had not yet succeeded in overcoming my foolish pride 
 sufficiently to hand in another theme to the terrible M. 
 Auger. 
 
 This affected me with remorseful feelings at times, and 
 prevented me from being as happy as I should by right 
 have been with parents as affectionate as mine, a friend as 
 dear as Baudouin, and masters as distinguished as those 
 of the Lycee Montaigne. 
 
 But nobody is perfect, and I least of all. My con- 
 founded vanity was always on the alert, ready to take 
 offence, and I believe that my only consolation, when 
 thinking of the reception that had been accorded to my 
 first literary effort, was that Baudouin, witness of my glory 
 at Chatillon, had not been witness of my shame at Paris. 
 
 An unlooked-for incident occurred presently and 
 brought this absurd situation to an end. 
 
 We had been given a composition in Greek, and 
 although I had done my best and felt that I had made 
 myself master of the subject, I was not counting on com- 
 pliments. It was an agreeable surprise, therefore, when 
 M. Auger, on reaching my exercise, which was this time 
 numbered three, suddenly said : 
 
 " M. Besnard's work is deserving of commendation. It 
 is clear and free from redundancy, it shows a distinct 
 understanding of the meaning of words, and if the style 
 were only a little less diffuse I should not have hesitated 
 to mark it higher. I wonder why M. Besnard, who has 
 shown what he can do when he cares to try, hardly ever 
 hands in his exercises to be read. His work to-day testi- 
 fies that he could and should aspire to a higher standing." 
 
 I blushed up to the whites of my eyes, and made no 
 reply. But five minutes later M. Auger returned to the 
 
WINTER SPORTS. !$! 
 
 charge. This time it was in relation to a disputed pas- 
 sage in Livy, taken from the " Conciones." 
 
 " Come, Monsieur Besnard, take the book," said the 
 master. " I am curious to see what you are capable of in 
 the way of an improvised translation." 
 
 You may imagine that I used my best efforts to acquit 
 myself of my task satisfactorily. I was so fortunate as 
 to succeed, grasp the meaning of the passage, and hit on 
 exactly the right words to express it. 
 
 "That is really not at all bad ! " remarked M. Auger 
 when I came to the end of my paragraph. " You have 
 evidently had careful instruction, monsieur, and I can only 
 express my astonishment at the strange mystery with 
 which you seem to surround yourself here. You should 
 not give way to indolence as you have been doing. Set to 
 work again, let me have some Lege Qucesos from you I 
 make a formal demand for them." 
 
 There was nothing to be said ; it was a distinct rehabili- 
 tation. After an invitation expressed in such obliging 
 terms I clearly had not the shadow of an excuse for 
 longer shirking what was plainly my duty. 
 
 And yet I know not if my miserable false shame would 
 not have deterred me from facing again the terrors of 
 public criticism had not Baudouin thrown himself into the 
 breach. 
 
 " M. Auger is perfectly right," he said to me when we 
 were let out for recess. " Why don't you give him exer- 
 cises to read ? " 
 
 I tried to argue the matter with him, to give him to 
 understand that I was holding myself in reserve for 
 weightier tasks. But as I did not give him my real 
 motive, which, moreover, was not of a particularly con- 
 vincing nature, Baudouin had no difficulty in demolish- 
 ing my arguments. 
 
152 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The result of this discussion and of an internal conflict 
 which lasted all one day and a portion of the night was 
 that I finally arrived at the heroic resolution of again 
 tempting fortune with a Lege Quceso. 
 
 But an accident that happened to me about this time 
 interrupted the even tenor of my existence and did not 
 allow M. Auger to profit by the first-fruits of my repen- 
 
 v _ 
 
 We were at the fencing school, and, contrary to his 
 usual habit, M. Goudouneix, who was punctuality itself, 
 had not yet made his appearance. Very foolishly Ver- 
 schurea and I had taken advantage of his absence to have 
 a bout with the foils, unmasked. It seemed to us more 
 manly that way. 
 
 I was brisk and full of life. Verschuren had given 
 ground at first, which had only the effect of exciting me 
 the more. He was making play warily, holding his blade 
 in a line with his body, and parrying with caution, careful 
 not to leave himself uncovered. 
 
 / 
 
 All at once he attacked with such fury, just as I was in 
 the act of delivering a thrust, that his foil broke short off, 
 and the fragment remaining in his hand grazed my neck 
 under the right ear. Baudouin gave a loud cry and 
 hastened toward us. 
 
 " Stop ! " 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said I. 
 
 At the same moment I saw that I was covered with 
 blood and felt a sensation of warmth on my shoulder. 
 
 " You are hurt ! " said Baudouin, receiving me in his 
 arms. 
 
 A small crowd gathered round me. Verschuren, horri- 
 fied by what he had done, gave his handkerchief to arrest 
 the flow of blood. I tried to reassure him, but the room 
 
" VERSCHUREN ATTACKED WITH SUCH VIGOUR." 
 
WINTER SPORTS. 155 
 
 seemed to be turning round and round, then all grew 
 dark before me and I lost consciousness. 
 
 When I came to my senses, I perceived that I was be- 
 ing carried, supported by the legs and shoulders. I 
 experienced a sensation of weakness that was not dis- 
 agreeable, and made no attempt to open my eyes. I 
 heard the sound of voices in discussion. With whom ? 
 It was a matter of perfect indifference to me. Then 
 stifled exclamations, an ascent of a staircase, during which 
 it seemed to me that my head was down and my heels 
 were in the air, a transit that appeared as if it would 
 never end, a confused murmur of voices. Then I was 
 laid upon a bed that seemed deliciously soft and comfort- 
 able, and fell asleep. 
 
 Something moist and warm, trickling over my left 
 hand, awoke me. I raised my heavy eyelids. 
 
 I was in a little white-curtained bed, in the infirmary of 
 the lyce"e. 
 
 "See, the poor dear -is opening his eyes!" said a fa- 
 miliar voice at my bedside. It was Aunt Aubert ; she 
 was holding my hand, and it was her tears that had mois- 
 tened it. 
 
 I gave a quick look round the room. Mamma, my 
 father, Baudouin, grandpa, Verschuren were there, and in 
 the background the principal, the proctor, and two on 
 three other persons. " I must have been asleep an awfully 
 long time for all these people to have time to get here," 
 I thought. A stout, clean-shaven gentleman, with gray 
 side-whiskers closely trimmed, leaves the group, and 
 comes toward my bed. 
 
 " Well, my lad," he says, feeling my pulse, " we are n't 
 going to step down and out for a little thing like this, are. 
 
156 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 we? That would be too great a sorrow for mamma. 
 Come, mesdames, cheer up; you have no cause for 
 alarm," he resumed presently ; " a few days will set him 
 right again. The pulse is favourable, just enough fever 
 to show that we have not parted with our strength. The~ 
 wound is nicely bandaged ; there is nothing to fear from 
 internal hemorrhage. If this long-legged youngster can 
 only content himself to lie still in bed, all will be well " 
 
 "Could he not be brought home? " my mother asked, 
 in a voice of entreaty. 
 
 " We will see about that in four or five days from now," 
 the doctor replied. " For the moment, all he requires is 
 quiet, rest and quiet. And I don't know but it would 
 be as well if he would go to sleep again 
 
 Two kisses closed my eyes. I hear a sound of foot- 
 steps softly pattering over the carpet, as if a lot of mice 
 were scampering toward the door. All the people are 
 departing, evidently, all save two loved forms, seated on 
 either side the bed, of whose presence I am dimly con- 
 scious through my half-closed eyes. 
 
 Mamma and Aunt Aubert had obtained permission to 
 remain with me. They watched me by night, and at- 
 tended to my wants by day, with a devotion that never 
 wearied. All day long it was nothing but caresses, cups 
 of bouillon, glasses of Malaga, gentle words, and tears of 
 happiness on seeing me out of danger. No one knows, 
 until he has passed through such an experience, what 
 depths of tenderness lie hidden in the bosom of a mother 
 and an Aunt Aubert. 
 
 My father came to see me twice a day, and Baudouin 
 and Verschuren never failed to put in an appearance at 
 the noonday recess. I do not remember ever having been 
 happier in my life, than during that brief period spent in 
 
*>fc? 
 
 XTKIVERSITT) 
 
 WINTER SPORTS. 157 
 
 the infirmary of the Lycee Montaigne. All those atten- 
 tions demonstrated tq me so clearly the affection of my 
 family and my friends ! 
 
 The wound, by great good luck, was not really serious, 
 and two weeks at Billancourt completed my convales- 
 cenceA It is needless to say, however, what a host of argu- 
 ments the accident supplied to mamma and Aunt Aubert, 
 against the dangerous and pernicious practice of fencing. 
 It required the exercise of my father's authority and my 
 own solemn promise never to handle the foils again, with- 
 out observing every precaution, before permission was 
 accorded me to return to the fencing school. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A NEW PROFESSOR. 
 
 LESS than a week had elapsed since my return to the 
 lyce"e, when the class in rhetoric was painfully sur- 
 prised one morning by the important tidings with which 
 M. Auger prefaced his lecture. 
 
 "Gentlemen, we meet to-day as professor and pupils for 
 the last time. A decree of the Ministry has summoned 
 me to the functions of Inspector-General of Secondary 
 Instruction. My successor is appointed. He will enter 
 upon his duties to-morrow " 
 
 A murmur rose from the benches. M. Auger contin- 
 ued : 
 
 "You will admit, gentlemen, that such a preferment is 
 not one that a father and husband, as I am, can regard 
 without satisfaction. It is the crowning of my career, the 
 marshal's baton of our little educational army, and if I 
 pretended that I was not pleased to receive it, I should be 
 guilty of hypocrisy. Again, you can understand that 
 after having explained the beauties of Sophocles and 
 Tacitus in one spot, daily, for ten or twelve years, I shall 
 not be altogether sorry to have a change of scene and 
 labours. And yet, in spite of all, these sentiments are 
 dashed with a regretful feeling. In taking leave of a 
 class that I have conducted almost half-way on its road, I 
 am conscious of that pang which all feel at the sundering 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 159 
 
 of old habits and relations, at the abandonment of labours 
 undertaken and hopes shared in common. I should be 
 glad, could I remain with you to the end of the school 
 year, sharing to the end your efforts and your fortunes at 
 the examinations. My superiors have decided otherwise ; 
 there is nothing for me but to obey. But it will be a 
 pleasant thought for me if I can believe that among you 
 are some who will cherish kindly memories of their old 
 master 
 
 He was interrupted by the universal acclamation of the 
 class. 
 
 " All ! all ! " they shouted, with an enthusiasm which I 
 participated in equally with the rest ; there was no trace 
 left of the hateful rancour which had too long been fester- 
 ing in my bosom. 
 
 The cry came from our hearts, with perfect spontaneity. 
 We were not misled by the superficial irony of the pro- 
 fessor's little speech, and, reading between the lines, we 
 appreciated its genuine emotion. For the first time 
 we were fully aware of the conquest he had made of 
 our esteem and almost of our affection, notwithstanding 
 his outspokenness and the occasional roughness of his 
 manner. 
 
 But he resumed immediately : 
 
 " Come ! that is well, I thank you, gentlemen. And 
 now, as we have only two hours left, let us try to employ 
 them to advantage." 
 
 He opened his book and began the exercises of the 
 day. 
 
 But the ferment into which the great news had thrown 
 us was not to be so readily allayed. A sort of ground- 
 swell ran through the class, as happens at sea after a long 
 continued gale. We answered the master's direct questions 
 
160 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 and made a pretence of listening to his explanations, but 
 all our thoughts were on his coming departure. 
 
 From the four corners of the room, and almost simul- 
 taneously, notes were started on their journey to Dutheil, 
 urging him to present the adieux of the class to our pro- 
 fessor on the occasion of our parting. 
 
 In his capacity as dean of the veterans and tenant in 
 perpetuity of the bench of honour, he could not well refuse 
 to comply with our request, and he nodded his head in 
 token of acceptance. We saw him during the remainder 
 of the hour taking notes and jotting down brief sentences, 
 furbishing up his arms, so to speak, occasionally run- 
 ning his big, strong hand through his rumpled hair the 
 while. 
 
 At last the hour struck. The roll of the drum reechoed 
 through the corridors. Dutheil, signing to us to remain 
 in our places, immediately rose and addressed M. Auger. 
 
 His little speech was brief, a little hyperbolical, perhaps, 
 but it expressed felicitously the sentiments of the entire 
 class. At two or three points it was endorsed by our 
 unanimous applause. 
 
 M. Auger was evidently deeply moved. He came down 
 from his rostrum and " embraced us all' in the person of 
 Dutheil," as he affectionately said, adding, almost immedi- 
 ately, with his bantering air : 
 
 " It is my adieu of Fontainebleau." 
 
 All was over. We sorrowfully left the class-room. M. 
 Auger was no longer our professor. 
 
 An event of such magnitude naturally furnished food 
 for conversation during the remainder of the day. There 
 was a lesson in history for the afternoon, and the coming 
 of the new professor was set down for the following 
 morning. 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. l6l 
 
 What would he be like, that interloper ? Not his equal 
 in brains and learning, that was a sure thing. He was not 
 the man to explain Tacitus as our old master had done, we 
 knew that beforehand. And Greek ? Oh, yes ! he would 
 possess as much Greek as he did maybe ! And phi- 
 lology ; a fine figure he would cut lecturing on philology 
 from M. Auger's chair. Ah, we hated him before we had 
 seen him ! We were all ready to analyze him, dissect him, 
 not receive his theories unless he gave us chapter and 
 verse for them. 
 
 It was not seventy -five lyceans, it was seventy -five 
 inflexible and merciless judges who marched in next morn- 
 ing and seated themselves on the benches of the rhetoric 
 class. 
 
 The new professor, his cap drawn down over his eyes 
 and his nose buried in his papers, appeared to be deeply 
 occupied. Aha ! timid, too, is he ? All that could be seen 
 of his face was a huge pair of jet-black side- whiskers that 
 floated down upon his shoulders, and they, of course, did 
 not give us much information about the man. 
 
 Perceiving, suddenly, that the benches were all filled, he 
 raised his head and took off his cap. 
 
 Wonder of wonders ! it was M. Pellerin. 
 
 The effect was theatrical, so entirely unexpected was it. 
 My delight was such that it took away my breath. I could 
 hardly believe the evidence of my eyes. 
 
 And yet there was no room for doubt. M. Pellerin had 
 changed somewhat in the four years since I saw him last. 
 He was maturer, stronger, stouter, more developed in 
 every way than my recollection depicted him to me. But 
 it was he, with his kindly honest face, so frank and at the 
 same time so intelligent, his bright eyes, his neatly brushed 
 hair, the repose and distinction of his bearing. 
 
1 62 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 I instinctively turned and looked at Baudouin, whose 
 bench was in the second row from mine. I could see that 
 he was no less surprised and delighted than myself. 
 
 But hush ! the master is about to speak. 
 
 His address is very brief, amounting to nothing scarcely, 
 only a few words to tell us that he appreciated the 
 difficulty of the task that lies before him. He knows and 
 prizes at its real value M. Auger's profound learning, the 
 sureness and elegance of his methods, the charm of his 
 teaching. Certainly, he cannot hope to equal such a 
 model, or even to approach it. All he can say is that he 
 will spare no efforts to be of service to us in accordance 
 with the measure of his powers, and, if he cannot make us 
 forget the incomparable master whom we have lost, at 
 least endeavour to supply his place in the more essential 
 particulars. 
 
 All which is said very simply and unaffectedly, in a low 
 but firm voice, underneath which we think we detect the 
 presence of a not too assertive authority. 
 
 Glancing around the class, I could see that it was pleased 
 with this prologue to the play. In eulogizing M. Auger, 
 M. Pellerin had gone straight to the mark, had touched us 
 all in a tender spot. The charm of a pair of frank, pene- 
 trating eyes had done the rest. Youthful affections and 
 respect are easily gained if one only knows how to go 
 about it. It was clear that all our hearts were already 
 enlisted in his favour. 
 
 Moreover, his would not have been a happy lot who 
 should have attempted to resist. Baudouin and I were on 
 our mettle, like a pair of fighting cocks. I verily believe 
 that, had any one been so imprudent as to hazard an injuri- 
 ous reflection, we should have taken him by the throat and 
 shaken him within an inch of his life. But there was 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 163 
 
 nothing of the sort. All hands were under the influence 
 of the spell. 
 
 The recitation began. At that moment M. Pellerin, 
 running his eyes over the class, recognized me. I gave 
 him a little nod of the head, and the friendly manner in 
 which he received it encouraged me to indicate Baudouin's 
 presence by a glance from the corner of my eye. An 
 expression of deep pleasure immediately overspread his 
 face, and I thought I could see that it cost him an effort 
 to preserve his dignity. He succeeded in doing so, how- 
 ever. 
 
 After the lessons came the correction of the theme of 
 the day. This was an ode of Pindar, that M. Auger had 
 given us to translate. None of us had succeeded in mak- 
 ing a very creditable version, for it was terribly involved 
 and difficult. 
 
 M. Pellerin began by giving us a literal translation of 
 the ode, which he did with a facility and grace that at once 
 enlightened the class as to the extent of his acquaintance 
 with Greek. Then, in the most natural and unaffected 
 manner, he proceeded to embroider his theme with all 
 sorts of historical details of the freshest and most entranc- 
 ing interest. It was plain that not only was he thoroughly 
 acquainted with the language in its origin and all its prin- 
 ciples, but that he loved it passionately and had made a 
 special study of everything connected with it. Monu- 
 ments and costumes of ancient Greece, its mythology, 
 ethnology, philosophy, and art, nay, even the aspect of its 
 landscapes, all fell from his lips with such profusion of 
 detail and wealth of colouring that we might have imagined 
 ourselves carried back to the time of the poet. 
 
 The class listened delightedly. I think it would have 
 required little to elicit an outburst of applause from us. 
 
1 64 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 I could see plainly that, from that time forth, M. Pellerin 
 was master of his audience. After he had dictated to us 
 another Greek version, he made a still further advance in 
 our admiration by explaining to us a chapter of Tacitus as 
 M. Auger himself could not have done ; for our old mas- 
 ter's erudition, as we presently began to see, had not quite 
 kept abreast with the results of modern criticism. 
 
 The recitation came to an end. As we were rising to 
 leave the room, M. Pellerin beckoned to Baudouin and me 
 to come to him. We had only been waiting for the signal, 
 and should have thrown ourselves into his arms if such a 
 demonstration, at such a time and place, had not been 
 entirely contrary to scholastic decorum. 
 
 " To what good fortune am I indebted for meeting you 
 here again ? " our professor asked. 
 
 We explained to him briefly the situation of affairs with 
 us. He, in turn, informed us that he had returned from 
 Greece about four months previously; the success of a 
 pamphlet, which he had presented to the Academy of 
 Inscriptions, on the recent excavations in the vicinity of 
 Olympia, had resulted in his appointment to the Lycee 
 Montaigne. 
 
 " It was a tremendous honour," he said, in conclusion, 
 " and I was almost ashamed to accept it ; but I shall do 
 my best to deserve it by dint of attention and hard work. 
 I was a little surprised not to see you on the bench of 
 honour," he added, giving me a look ; " that is a matter that 
 must be changed now that I am consul ; we will talk of it 
 hereafter. Go, now, and rejoin your comrades." 
 
 He dismissed us with a cordial shake of the hand. 
 
 In the playground the excitement was extreme. The 
 merits of the new professor were eagerly discussed ; and 
 Dutheil, who had been one of the loudest in his expres- 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 165 
 
 sions of regret for M. Auger's departure, was already the 
 most enthusiastic in his admiration of M. Pellerin. 
 
 " You know him, do you ? " he said to me when I came 
 on the ground. 
 
 I gave him all the particulars that I had at command in 
 relation to our dear friend and master. His astonishment 
 increased when he learned that M. Pellerin had been head 
 usher in a country academy and was not even a graduate 
 of the Normal School. 
 
 "Well, well!" he cried; "his energy and intelligence 
 must be something that we don't see the like of every 
 day ! " 
 
 I did not attempt to controvert his opinion. 
 
 Baudouin and I had laid our plans to pay M. Pellerin a 
 visit at his abode on the following Sunday, and we were 
 anticipating great enjoyment from our project. My father, 
 to whom I had written without delay, announcing the 
 great news, had a still more agreeable surprise in store 
 for us. 
 
 " Whom do you think we are to have to dine with us 
 this evening ? " he asked, when he came to take us from 
 the lycee. 
 
 We looked at him, interrogatively. 
 
 " M. Pellerin. I called on him yesterday, and he was 
 so kind as to accept my invitation. He asked me to say 
 to you that, if you have nothing better to do, he would be 
 pleased if you would look in on him this afternoon at five 
 o'clock, and bring him to the house with you." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that we accepted with 
 alacrity. 
 
 M. Pellerin lived in the Avenue des Ternes, where he 
 had a small apartment of five rooms into which we were 
 ushered by a pleasant-faced old woman, his only domestic. 
 
1 66 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The place was as unpretending as possible, but a single 
 glance on entering showed it to be the abode of a man of 
 refinement. Mouldings of some of the finest metopes in 
 the museum of Athens, some fragments of antique mar- 
 bles, two or three good etchings, and a charming Gallo- 
 Roman lamp gave to the antechamber, even, the appearance 
 of a little sanctuary. The study, which also served as a 
 parlour, had a good Smyrna carpet on its floor, a great desk, 
 and a few easy chairs ; the walls were hidden by shelves 
 loaded with rows of books, while over the mantelpiece, the 
 space usually filled by a mirror was occupied by a great 
 triptych of the school of Bologna. Curtains of cheerful 
 hues, a balcony filled with flowers, small tables strewn with 
 souvenirs of travel, albums, sketches, and photographs, 
 contributed to give the apartment an attractive and home- 
 like appearance. 
 
 All these details were interesting, but what interested 
 us still more was to find M. Pellerin, our master and our 
 hero, in working costume, to wit : jacket of soft blue cotton 
 cloth, gray trousers coming down over the foot, slippers, 
 and, who would have believed it ! a long pipe in his mouth. 
 What would the rhetoric class of the Lycee Montaigne 
 have given for a sight of its professor in private life ! 
 
 We appreciated our privilege, and were so affected that 
 we were hardly able to converse. But M. Pellerin quickly 
 put us at ease and showed himself the genial companion 
 of other days. 
 
 " I do not ask you to smoke a cigarette with me," he 
 laughingly said, " although my Turkish tobacco is as good 
 as can be found anywhere. You know my belief : to allow 
 young men to smoke before they have attained their 
 growth is actually criminal. It is indisputable that tobacco, 
 like all narcotics, arrests physical development ; it is largely 
 
" M. PELLERIN QUICKLY PUT US AT OUR EASE." 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 169 
 
 to its deleterious influence that we may attribute the 
 yearly decrease in average stature certified to by the 
 recruiting boards. A celebrated physiologist with whom 
 I crossed from the Piraeus to Alexandria remarked to me, 
 ' The European nations will have shrunk to the stature of 
 the Laplanders before a hundred years are out if they con- 
 tinue to let their children smoke before reaching maturity.' 
 You are looking at that paper-weight," M. Pellerin went 
 on, observing Baudouin's eyes fixed on the desk. " It is the 
 foot of an antique statue that I bought from a fisherman 
 of Chios for three drachmae. Wonderful, is n't it ? But 
 speaking of statues, do you still continue to model ? " 
 
 " Not so much as I could wish." 
 
 " That is a pity, for unless I am greatly mistaken there 
 is where your true vocation lies." 
 
 "What, monsieur!" Baudouin eagerly asked, "is it 
 your opinion that when one feels an attraction for a par- 
 ticular calling he should embrace it, regardless of whatever 
 obstacles may stand in his way?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly. It is a sacred duty, almost, not only 
 toward oneself, but toward one's country. But under- 
 stand me : the vocation must be genuine, it must rest on 
 substantial facts, not on futile dreams, and the candidate 
 should be in position to prove its reality to others as well 
 as to himself. He may also have imperious duties, an 
 infirm father or a family dependent on him for support ; in 
 that case he would not be justified in so tying his hands 
 as to disqualify him from availing himself of any excep- 
 tional chances that might offer. But, with this rare 
 exception, assuming that there is a special, definite func- 
 tion for which he is better adapted than for any other, I 
 say that it is his duty to bend his efforts in that direction, 
 and the duty of those around him to assist him." 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "And you would advise me," Baudouin continued, in a 
 voice that trembled with emotion, "to. give my attention 
 to art in preference to any other occupation ? " 
 
 " Certainly, if you feel the vocation and if, as I believe, 
 you have the strength and courage for the conflict. You 
 had best give me some of your designs and attempts at 
 sculpture so that I may show them to competent judges ; 
 I will let you know what they think of them. But will 
 you excuse me if I retire to my room and dress ? " 
 
 M. Pellerin was soon ready, and, descending the Champs- 
 Elysees on foot together, we struck into the Billancourt 
 road. 
 
 " Well ! " he said, as soon as we were fairly under way, 
 "let 'shave a little talk about your affairs. You are not 
 altogether satisfied with your standing in the lycee, and 
 are not quite as successful in your compositions in Latin 
 prose and verse as you once were is that so ? Ah, you 
 have foemen worthy of your steel ! The class is not an 
 exceptionally bright one, taken as a whole, but some of its 
 members are hard ones to compete with. Come, put your 
 hands on your hearts and tell me this : have you been 
 working industriously since the beginning of the year ? " 
 
 " I only came to the Lycee Montaigne a month ago/* 
 observed Baudouin. 
 
 " I know that ; I was speaking more particularly to 
 Besnard." 
 
 "Faith," I replied, "I am afraid it would be too much 
 like a fib if I were to say yes. But it is so discouraging 
 to come up from the province, where one had always been 
 accustomed to be among the first of the class, and find 
 oneself sent down to the centre ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am acquainted with that sensation ; it is not 
 pleasant. But there is something that should be even yet 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. I /I 
 
 more hateful to you, and that is to remain content with 
 that inferior rank." 
 
 " Believe me, monsieur, nothing would please me better 
 than to leave it for a higher ; but what am I to do ? " 
 
 " What are you to do ? It is perfectly simple. Re- 
 member Newton's answer to the lady who asked him how 
 he came to discover the law of gravitation : By think- 
 ing of it,' he said. Well, when you give yourself a 
 problem which, I think you will admit, is considerably 
 less difficult, that of being first in Latin composition or in 
 history, the way to solve it is very much the same, you 
 must think of it ! " 
 
 " But I do think of it ; I think of nothing else from 
 morning till night, and yet 
 
 " The trouble is that you don't think in the right way. 
 It is not enough to say to yourself, < I should like to be 
 first,' although the aspiration in itself is perfectly legiti- 
 mate. What you want above all to keep asking yourself 
 is, ' How can I get to be first ? ' ' 
 
 " Yes, but the answer is hard to find." 
 
 " Not at all. Ask yourself why you were first in Latin 
 composition at Chatillon." 
 
 " Because I committed fewer barbarisms and solecisms 
 than my comrades." 
 
 " Very good. Do you commit more barbarisms and 
 solecisms at Paris than you did at Chatillon ?" 
 
 " I flatter myself that I do not." 
 
 " Do you commit more than, say, Dutheil ? " 
 
 " I do not think so. M. Auger himself did me the 
 justice to acknowledge that I write Latin correctly." 
 
 " Good. You write as correctly as the others, and yet 
 you are not first. It must be, therefore, that at Mon- 
 taigne it is not a question of not committing solecisms 
 
1/2 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 and barbarisms, and there are twenty students in the 
 class who don't, but of expressing oneself more elegantly 
 than the others, of saying in appropriate language things 
 that command attention." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Well, there you have the whole secret. Writing the 
 Latin of the Augustan age." 
 
 " That is easier said than done ! " said I, with a laugh. 
 
 " Why so ? Who is the most elegant writer of Latin 
 prose, in your opinion ? " 
 
 I reflected a moment, then doubtfully suggested : 
 
 " Cicero, in his < Letters ? ' " 
 
 " Your taste is not so bad ! Well, write like Cicero ; 
 you will be sure you are on the right track then." 
 
 " But how am I to do it, I ask again ? " 
 
 " Simply by reading and re-reading Cicero's ' Letters,' 
 noting and carefully remembering his style of writing, his 
 chosen expressions, his turns of thought, the words he 
 avoids using, the characteristic locutions that you find 
 recurring constantly in his works. Little by little these 
 details will become familiar to you to the extent that they 
 will become incorporated with your mental structure. 
 Correct phrasing in Latin will also serve to give your 
 ideas a Latin bent. Your style will be benefited by 
 becoming broader and more stately, and in a sense more 
 authentic. You will accustom yourself to think in Cice- 
 ronian Latin, which is the great desideratum. And then, 
 according as you shall have brought more or less intelli- 
 gence and ardour to this preparatory process, the result 
 will be good or indifferent, but in any event, so far as 
 Latinity goes, it cannot fail to be superior to the style that 
 you have involved from your own inner consciousness." 
 
 "But what you suggest is simply a labour of imitation." 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 173 
 
 " Yes, so far as form is concerned. Would you aspire 
 to invent a new Latin language better than Cicero's ? 
 What can you do better than follow in his footsteps ? 
 Ask Baudouin how he learned to draw ; by copying from 
 the best models, he will tell you." 
 
 The scales dropped from my eyes. I began to have 
 glimpses of the light. 
 
 "What I have been saying," M. Pellerin went on, 
 " relates only to style, and style is not everything. There 
 is the matter of the composition, its fundamental woof to 
 be created, or rather to be arranged, since you are fur- 
 nished with the materials, and that, also, requires a special 
 training. You should accustom yourself to analyze the 
 subject thoroughly, to extract from it all that it contains, 
 to infuse into it the new elements that your memory 
 and your imagination suggest to you, and it is unnecessary 
 to say that in this respect you will find your historical 
 studies, and, in fact, your reading of every description, of 
 singular assistance to you. But style is a matter of the 
 highest importance, do not forget that. A theme well 
 written and carefully thought out is never commonplace." 
 
 M. Pellerin had said his say, and I reflected in silence 
 on the counsels he had given me. I promised myself to 
 turn them to account at once. Thanks to this clue of 
 Ariadne, I at last saw a prospect of finding a way out of 
 the labyrinth in which I had been wandering for the last 
 three months. 
 
 As for Baudouin, he had remained completely absorbed 
 in the contemplation of what our dear master had said to 
 him concerning the choice of a profession. When he saw 
 that we had finished talking he made haste to bring the 
 conversation back to the subject that , lay so near his 
 heart. 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
1/4 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "Monsieur," he asked, "you were saying a while ago 
 that it is our duty to follow our vocation ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is my belief. But another thing that I be- 
 lieve is that we should go to work scientifically, so to 
 speak, to find out what that vocation is, and not let it be 
 confounded with an idle fancy or the caprice of a moment. 
 Shall I tell you what, in my opinion, is the greatest evil 
 that oppresses men's lives ? It is that they do not suffi- 
 ciently investigate the reasons which lead them to embrace 
 one career in preference to another. It is too often the 
 case that chance, the merest accident, insignificant details 
 of dress, a matter of buttons and gold lace, determine 
 their choice. What folly ! To enter, without proper con- 
 sideration, a profession that one is to follow for his whole 
 life ! To abandon oneself, so to speak, to the hazard of 
 a die, under circumstances that call for the most mature 
 deliberation, the most serious reflection ! It is deplorable, 
 not only for the individual, but for the entire body of 
 society. For there are few men who are not endowed with 
 the capacity to do, and do well, some one particular thing ; 
 and the great point for them, as well as for their neigh- 
 bours, is to see that they are given that special work to do, 
 and no other. On the one hand, they will find their re- 
 ward in the consciousness of a task well performed, 
 together with those material advantages which always 
 spring from superiority in any one branch ; on the other, 
 society will derive the benefit to which it is entitled for its 
 money, that of being well served." 
 
 " That is plain as day," exclaimed Baudouin. 
 
 " Is it not ridiculous," M. Pellerin pursued, " to see a 
 young man, who, at the utmost, is capable of copying ad- 
 dresses, serving as lieutenant in a cavalry regiment ! Or 
 another, who might have made a first-class sailor, totting 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 1/5 
 
 up columns of figures in a banker's office ? The loss is 
 twofold, the nation and the individual both are losers. 
 I maintain that the efforts of educational bodies should be 
 directed to ascertaining the true vocation of every child 
 and then encouraging him to pursue it. The united ef- 
 forts of the family, the teachers, and the pupil himself, 
 should be concentrated on that one great purpose." 
 
 " But how will you proceed to acquaint yourself with 
 each one's specific apitudes ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, there is a very simple way, one among twenty. 
 It is the device of ' coefficients,' that is employed in com- 
 petitive examinations for the State schools. I have often 
 wondered why this method was so seldom utilized." 
 
 " There is something in physics about the coefficient of 
 dilatation " 
 
 "Well, the coefficients that I speak of are of the same 
 nature, applied to the intellectual faculties. Each exam- 
 ination has its own particular list of topics, has it not, in 
 accordance with the nature of the acquirements required 
 by each school ? We will take the list of Saint-Cyr as 
 an example. The candidates are examined in arithmetic, 
 geometry, trigonometry, mechanics, geography, and many 
 other things besides. But all the branches in this list 
 are not of the same importance in the judges' eyes ; the 
 weight that each branch is to possess in determining the 
 standing of the aspirant is fixed by what is called its num- 
 ber. History is numbered six, Latin translation five, 
 German three, drawing in India ink two, and the various 
 other subjects at higher or lower figures. On the other 
 hand, the candidate receives, on each subject, a mark cor- 
 responding to his proficiency. This mark, represented by 
 a number of points, may be very bad, from zero to four 
 points, bad, from four to seven, middling, from seven to 
 
176 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 ten, and finally the various degrees of excellence, culmi- 
 nating at twenty. The examiners multiply the number of 
 points obtained by the candidate in each subject by the 
 corresponding coefficient, and the product gives the candi- 
 date's total number of points, and determines his standing 
 among his competitors. Is the working of the system 
 clear to you ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. But I don't see " 
 
 "Wait a moment. I know what you mean, we are 
 coming to it. Every profession rests on the application 
 of faculties and special attainments, to which is attributed 
 an importance of their own. That being the case, it is 
 the duty of every one to subject himself to frequent and 
 severe examinations with a view to determining in what 
 direction it is advisable to bend his energies while his ed- 
 ucation is going on, and to make his choice in conformity 
 with the results of such examinations. Supposing his in- 
 clination to be for the military career, he will not decide to 
 try for Saint-Cyr, unless, in addition to the indispensable 
 physical qualifications, he has a fair chance of scoring 
 a respectable number of points in trigonometry, geogra- 
 phy, and German, all these branches counting heavily in 
 the competition, on account of the size of their coefficients. 
 If he is strong in mechanics, he will find it to his advan- 
 tage to turn to the industrial professions. And if all his 
 triumphs are gained in literature or history, instead of 
 vegetating in the rear ranks of a scientific career why not 
 embrace one of the liberal professions?" 
 
 " But, monsieur, every one cannot aspire to reach the 
 topmost position in his calling." 
 
 " If by that you mean to say that every one cannot 
 expect to reach it you are quite right. But I for my part 
 can see no reason why every one should not aspire to it, at 
 
A NEW PROFESSOR. 177 
 
 any rate at the happy age when one is beginning his 
 apprenticeship. The ambition to do well that which one 
 has to do is a powerful incentive in the lives of nations as 
 well as men. Do you not think that if all the young men 
 who enter Saint-Cyr were firmly resolved to do their level 
 best to become generals of division, and were convinced 
 that they could attain their end only through application, 
 merit, and service rendered, the standard of excellence of 
 our army would be materially raised ? It is the same with 
 all callings and professions. And that is why it is of 
 such supreme importance to exercise all our caution and 
 wisdom in making our selection, and, once the selection 
 made, to devote ourselves soul and body to making it a 
 success. " 
 
 M. Pellerin had much more to say to us on this inter- 
 esting subject, so important a factor in the future of 
 young men, although the attention they give it is generally 
 of the most superficial description. Then, as we pursued 
 our way, our talk was of Chatillon and our old comrades. 
 One was at the Naval School, another was pursuing his 
 legal or medical studies ; this one had entered one of the 
 bureaus of the State as supernumerary ; that one had 
 gone into trade. Verschuren was the only one present 
 with us at the Lycee Montaigne. 
 
 " And Mounerol ? " M. Pellerin inquired. 
 
 Mounerol was a former schoolmate of ours whom he 
 had once assisted to a free scholarship in the lycee at 
 Chatillon, a poor boy of the streets, who had speedily 
 developed into one of our most formidable rivals. 
 
 1 'Mounerol took five prizes last year, but I don't know 
 what has become of him," I replied. "There was some 
 talk of keeping him at the lycee on the chance of an 
 ushership becoming vacant." 
 
1/8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "He is a brave little fellow," said M. Pellerin, "and is 
 certain to make his mark. Do you remember what a 
 droll chap he was, and how everybody in the city called 
 him Criquet ? His good old grandfather is living still, I 
 trust ? " 
 
 " Pere Plaisir ? livelier than ever, and immensely 
 proud of his boy's success. He still sells waffles at the 
 end of the Cours. There is another one who has not 
 forgotten you, monsieur! The last time I saw him he 
 asked about you." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE - STUDENT. 
 
 WITH M. Pellerin as my master and Baudouin for 
 running mate I was myself again once more, and 
 buckled down to work in earnest. How pleasant my task 
 seemed to me now, and how I should have reproached 
 myself had I failed for a single day to prefix Lege Quceso 
 to my exercise ! M. Pellerin was not indulgent toward 
 my style, far from it ; but, I know not how it was, noth- 
 ing coming from him ever hurt or offended me. On the 
 contrary, all his observations were welcomed, and appeared 
 to me stamped with the hall mark of the purest taste. 
 
 I was not long in assuming a more respectable place in 
 the class than during the first trimestre, and that con- 
 stituted an increased incentive for emulation. I bade an 
 eternal farewell to idle loiterings, desultory readings, and 
 all similar forms of dissipation. Constantly poring over 
 my books and papers, not only did I strive to perform to 
 their satisfaction the tasks assigned me by my masters, 
 but I made it my business to go to the bottom of every 
 doubtful question, to overcome every difficulty, and above 
 all to have no idle moments in my day. 
 
 One might naturally suppose that nobody had any call 
 to interfere in such a labour of reform, and that I was 
 free to work as hard and long as I saw fit. However, 
 there was one of my classmates, Lecachey, who was 
 
180 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 unable to forgive me for my metamorphosis. It assumed 
 in his eyes the proportions of a personal affront. 
 
 At first he restricted himself to greeting me with his 
 stupid gibes when he saw that I no longer sat near him 
 in the class-room and was evidently at pains to avoid him 
 in the fencing school and elsewhere outside the limits of 
 the school. 
 
 " Is it true that you are aiming to be a savant with a 
 long name ending in us?" he would say when he suc- 
 ceeded in cornering me at recess. "That is very ill- 
 advised, my dear boy ; you should leave it to the pedants," 
 etc., etc. 
 
 When finally he saw that his inanities had no effect to 
 influence me, and that I preferred M. Pellerin's instruction 
 and M. Aveline's lectures to his brilliant conversation, he 
 became almost insulting. I resented these attacks, and 
 soon we were, if not totally estranged, on terms of decided 
 coolness toward each other. 
 
 About this time an incident that had serious conse- 
 quences occurred in the class in mathematics. 
 
 Thomereau, always on the lookout for a mystification, 
 had conceived one of stupendous proportions at the 
 expense of M. Desbans. His invention in this instance 
 was, I must confess, extremely droll, and our dear master- 
 himself has often spoken of it since as one of the most 
 ingenious tricks ever devised by the fertile brain of the 
 mischief-loving young rascal of a schoolboy. 
 
 It consisted in creating, for the nonce, an imaginary 
 student, Forestons by name, who came to play a role in 
 the class that was absolutely fantastic. 
 
 The mechanism of the joke was of the simplest. All 
 that Thomereau had done was to prepare for the recitation 
 an elementary problem, at the head of which was written 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE -STUDENT. l8l 
 
 in bold characters the name, Forestons. The exercise was 
 collected with the others at the beginning of the recitation 
 and handed to M. Desbans. At the following lesson it 
 came back in the professor's hand-bag with annotations 
 by his hand, and, in common with the other exercises, 
 became the object of critical remark. Forestons, for 
 good and sufficient reasons, made no reply to the master's 
 uncomplimentary observations. M. Desbans passed on to 
 the next paper, and the curtain fell on the first act of the 
 comedy. 
 
 When, for the third time, the invisible Forestons pre- 
 sented himself before the tribunal of the class, it cost us 
 all a mighty effort to restrain our laughter. And, even 
 then, we succeeded so imperfectly that M. Desbans looked 
 at us in amazement. 
 
 It was in vain that Baudouin, who was now taking 
 private lessons in mathematics with me, and shared my 
 affection for our master, expressed his disapproval of the 
 indecorous and too long protracted pleasantry. All was 
 unavailing. 
 
 Now it came to pass that, while M. Desbans was 
 reviewing the exercises one day, he paused at the paper 
 of the Spectre-student. 
 
 " Monsieur Forestons, your exercise is better to-day than 
 usual," he said ; " I should like to be assured that you 
 reached the solution of your problem without assistance. 
 Be so kind as to go to the blackboard and repeat the 
 demonstration." 
 
 Forestons, naturally, did not comply. M. Desbans 
 reiterated his request. 
 
 " Forestons has just this minute gone out ! " said 
 Thomereau, and a stifled laugh ran through the class. 
 The pleasantry seemed to have lost none of its freshness. 
 
1 82 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "Ah ! M. Forestons has gone out, has he? " M. Desbans 
 replied. "Well, do you go find him for me." 
 
 What was to be done ? The best course, undoubtedly, 
 would have been for some courageous individual to rise in 
 his place and disclose to M. Desbans the absurd mystifica- 
 tion in which the whole class was implicated. But there 
 was not one of us dared do it. 
 
 Several minutes passed, in expectancy. How would 
 Thomereau manage to extricate himself from his dilemma ? 
 Meantime, we were beginning to pluck up a little courage 
 and tell ourselves that M. Desbans, with his usual absent- 
 mindedness, would soon have forgotten his request, when, 
 all at once, the door of the room opened and Thomereau 
 walked in; but quantum mutatus ! a transformed, trans- 
 mogrified, transmuted Thomereau, whom few of us 
 recognized at first. 
 
 His buffoon instincts had served him well, unhappy 
 youth ! He had made himself almost unrecognizable. 
 With a day-scholar's overcoat draped over his tunic, his 
 shirt collar pulled up on a level with his ears, his long 
 locks plastered down upon his forehead and temples by 
 liberal applications of water from the pump in the court- 
 yard, he protruded his lips and stuck out his chin, wrinkled 
 his nose, and squinted his eyes. The effect was at once 
 grotesque and horrible. At sight of him, a laugh, that 
 no one attempted to restrain, rose from the benches. 
 
 M. Desbans suspended his demonstration for a moment, 
 looked at the new arrival with his great introspective eyes,. 
 and then resumed the thread of his discourse and finished 
 his reasoning. 
 
 We still continued to hope that things would remain 
 where they were, and that he would forget his fancy. But 
 on this occasion his memory was more tenacious. 
 
RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE - STUDENT. I 83 
 
 " Well ! Monsieur Forestons," he said, " have you 
 returned in safety from your excursion ? Please go to 
 the blackboard." 
 
 No one was laughing now. Thomereau, with a front of 
 brass, rose, descended the few steps that lay between him 
 and the board, and, still wearing his insufferable grimace, 
 took his position at the post of danger. 
 
 " As I said just now to your comrades," M. Desbans 
 resumed, " I have some doubts as to the originality of 
 your work. I think I remember to have heard that you 
 sometimes received assistance from your comrades, and 
 I should like to see what you will do with a very elemen- 
 tary problem. Be so good as to take down the following 
 data." 
 
 Thomereau took the chalk and stationed himself before 
 the blackboard in such a way that his face, while hidden 
 from the professor, was visible in profile to us. He 
 affected to be at ease, but it is my opinion that he was 
 beginning to regret his senseless caper. 
 
 "Ten students of rhetoric," M. Desbans went on, 
 "write from dictation, during two hours of detention in 
 the schoolroom, a total of three thousand six hundred and 
 sixty verses. How many verses will seventy-five students, 
 writing with the same . speed as the others, have written 
 at the end of four detentions of three hours each ? You 
 see the problem is a perfectly simple one, an example in 
 the rule of three. I am waiting to hear what you have to 
 say." 
 
 We, too, were waiting, and were even beginning to 
 wonder if the peculiar phraseology of the example might 
 not indicate a menace directed against us. Thomereau, 
 doubtless, had the same suspicion, for the hand that traced 
 the figures on the blackboard was far from steady. He 
 
1 84 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 began, however, with what confidence he might, in the 
 usual singsong formula. 
 
 " If ten students in two hours write three thousand six 
 hundred and sixty verses," he declaimed, in a cavernous 
 voice, " one student will write in two hours that total 
 divided by ten, and in one hour the quotient of this first 
 division divided by two." 
 
 "Very well reasoned, Monsieur Forestons," here inter- 
 jected M. Desbans. " I see that you have turned your 
 instruction in arithmetic to good account. Go on." 
 
 Thomereau, seeing matters assume such a satisfactory 
 aspect, seemed to receive a new lease of life. He raised 
 his voice, in volume but not in pitch, however, for it still 
 seemed to emanate from his boots, and continued : 
 
 " Having ascertained how many verses one student 
 writes in an hour, a simple sum in multiplication will tell 
 us how many seventy-five students will write in the same 
 time : seventy - five students writing at the same rate of 
 speed during four detentions of three hours, that is to say 
 during twelve hours, will turn off twelve times more, that 
 is to say the preceding product multiplied by twelve 
 
 " Perfect ! " exclaimed M. Desbans. " Now perform 
 your operations and let us know the total." 
 
 Thomereau proceeded to his divisions and multiplica- 
 tions, which consumed several minutes. At last he 
 pronounced the result : one hundred and sixty-four thou- 
 sand seven hundred. 
 
 "Very good," remarked the professor, "and I am 
 delighted to find you so proficient in the rule of three, 
 Monsieur Forestons. You are from the country, probably ? 
 I do not remember ever having seen you before today " 
 
 Here the class was utterly unable to hold in longer, and 
 gave way to an explosion of boisterous merriment. It 
 
RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE- STUDENT. 185 
 
 acted like a lash on Thomereau's congenital instinct to play 
 the clown. 
 
 "Yes, monsieur," he replied, in tones deeper and more 
 drawling than ever ; " I am from Brives-la-Gaillarde, where 
 my father, who fills the respectable position of Inspector 
 of Weights and Measures, taught me from earliest infancy 
 to revere the rule of three 
 
 Our delight was verging on delirium, when all at once 
 we saw M. Desbans rise, stride up to the now thoroughly 
 frightened Thomereau, seize him by the collar and hustle 
 him to the door, saying, in a distinct voice : 
 
 " Very well, Monsieur Forestons ! you will present your- 
 self before the proctor and tell him, with my compliments, 
 how you were eliminated from my class ! " 
 
 A funereal silence succeeded this unexpected speech. 
 We all felt that we were, to a certain extent, accomplices 
 in Thomereau's misdeeds ; we saw how culpable we had 
 been in abetting the mystification that had been carried on 
 for two or three weeks at the expense of a good and 
 learned man. A fine thing it was for us to do, truly, 
 miserable greenhorns and idle vagabonds that we were, to 
 make game of a savant of M. Desbans's distinction ! But 
 his turn had come now, and all that remained for us to do 
 was to bow our heads to the storm. 
 
 " You know me well enough to know, young gentlemen," 
 he said, turning and facing us, " that I shall not gratify 
 you by manifesting vexation at so pitiable a pleasantry ; 
 there was really neither wit nor daring in attempting it on 
 me, who am wholly unsuspicious of evil and devoted to 
 your instruction. You enlisted, seventy-five strong, in this 
 enterprise, and I am sorry that I cannot congratulate you 
 on it. When you are men and no longer blackguards, you 
 will better understand how little glory there was attaching 
 
1 86 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 to it. In the meantime, I call your attention to the fact 
 that you have violated in my person the respect you owe 
 your masters, and for that I am obliged to punish you. I 
 shall request the proctor to sentence the entire class, for 
 four consecutive Thursdays, to three hours' detention in 
 its room, and that will afford you an opportunity to verify 
 the correctness of your comrade's solution of the problem 
 in rule of three." 
 
 Whereon, M. Desbans returned to the blackboard, took 
 the chalk, and with perfect serenity proceeded to the dem- 
 onstration of another theorem. 
 
 We looked at one another in dismay. I, for my part, 
 was thoroughly ashamed of having been accessory, even 
 by my silence, to the ridiculous business, and I wondered 
 how I should dare show my face in M. Desbans's sanctum 
 for my private lesson. 
 
 My comrades for the most part seemed occupied with 
 other considerations, and until the end of the recitation 
 the whispering among them was continuous. I learned 
 the reason after the dismissal of the class. 
 
 "It is strange," said some one, "that Tronc - de - Cone 
 should have caught on to the affair so quickly." 
 
 " Parbleu ! he has not the sense to have discovered it 
 himself," said a voice behind me that I recognized as 
 Lecachey's. " It was doubtless one of his private pupils 
 who put a flea in his ear." 
 
 I turned around, my face pale with indignation. 
 
 " Is that intended for me ? " I asked. 
 
 He appeared a little disconcerted, and made answer 
 that I was not M. Desbans's only private pupil. 
 
 " I am, with the exception of Baudouin ! " I cried. ' 
 
 We had stopped a short way from the door, and a small 
 crowd had immediately gathered round us. The presence 
 
"M. DESBANS COLLARING THOMEREAU." 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE - STUDENT. 189 
 
 of these witnesses acted as a stimulus to Lecachey's 
 pride. 
 
 " Faith, then, if you wish to hear the truth," he inso- 
 lently said, " yes, I believe it was Baudouin who let the 
 cat out of the bag 
 
 Before he had time to finish his sentence, I drew off and 
 landed on his face with as scientific a right - hander as I 
 ever delivered in my life. The mischief was done before 
 I had even resolved to hit him. To hear Baudouin insulted 
 by that asinine snob was more than I could bear. 
 
 Lecachey had so little expected the attack that he acted 
 as if his wits had taken leave of him. 
 
 " What 's that ? What 's that? " was all he could enun- 
 ciate. 
 
 " If you have n't had enough, I have more in readiness 
 for you ! " I shouted at him. "And if you are not satis- 
 fied after I have had my innings, Baudouin will take his!" 
 
 At that moment the proctor made his appearance on 
 the scene of conflict. I was dragged away from the field 
 by my comrades, while Lecachey was taken in charge by 
 some of the day scholars. I saw the proctor stop and 
 question him. 
 
 Baudouin had remained behind to speak with M. 
 Desbans, possibly of the morning's incidents, and 
 had no knowledge of what was taking place outside the 
 class-room. I cautioned my friends to say nothing to 
 him. 
 
 " He would spoil Lecachey's good looks if he should 
 hear what the miserable little cad accuses him of. Bau- 
 douin never attempted to conceal his disgust for Tho- 
 mereau's mystification, but as for giving it away to 
 Tronc - de - Cone, never ! I can vouch for him as for 
 myself." 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 I was pleased to see that there was not one of my 
 comrades who did not share my opinion in this respect. 
 Within a few days Baudouin had become a universal 
 favourite, for no other reason than the frankness and 
 uprightness of his character. My friends promised me 
 to observe secrecy. 
 
 " Well, what did the proctor say to you ? " we asked, in 
 chorus, of Thomereau when we saw him next. 
 
 " The proctor ? Did you think I was such an idiot as 
 to present myself before him ? " our little man replied, in 
 a tone of triumph. " I just slipped in here, quietly, and 
 .sat out the recitation, and I '11 bet that old Tronc-de-C6ne 
 has already forgotten the whole business." 
 
 He seemed to regard his idea as a stroke of genius. 
 
 " Tronc-de-C6ne may have forgotten ; that is his look- 
 out!" I said to myself; " but as for you, my lad, you 
 would not take so philosophically the tremendous wig- 
 ging that he gave you unless your conscience told 
 you you deserved it." 
 
 No one would believe, looking at Thomereau, that he 
 had been the inglorious hero of so disreputable an adven- 
 ture. That lightness of heart and thickness of the epi- 
 dermis is doubtless a gift peculiar to professional buffoons. 
 I have often noticed in the course of my life that no one 
 is so quick as they to recover from the effect of the vari- 
 ous, and not always agreeable, consequences in which 
 their mania for amusing themselves at their neighbours' 
 expense is pretty certain to involve them. 
 
 The fellow's effrontery was too much for Baudouin, 
 when he had an opportunity of witnessing it. 
 
 " Just see the assurance of the chap who had his ears 
 boxed so recently," he said to me, with unfeigned 
 astonishment. 
 
RISE AND FALL OF THE SPECTRE -STUDENT. igi 
 
 As for me, I knew that no one is apt to look back with 
 pleasure on the part he has borne in an execution of this 
 nature, and that the surviving impression is always a pain- 
 ful one. But my attention during recess was chiefly given 
 to keeping Baudouin occupied, in order that no echo of 
 my affair with Lecachey might get to his ears. The 
 behaviour of the class was perfect. No one made the 
 least allusion to what had occurred in the courtyard. 
 
 But the incident was not to be allowed to drop in that 
 way, unfortunately. We had scarcely taken our seats in 
 the recitation-room when Anselme opened the door, and 
 shouted : 
 
 " Monsieur Besnard ! Monsieur Thomereau ! will 
 appear before the principal " 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. THE LECACHEY FAMILY. 
 A PETITION. 
 
 TO be summoned before the principal was, under any 
 circumstances, a matter of no small consequence. 
 Such an honour had never been conferred on me during 
 my residence at the Lycee Montaigne, but that I was to 
 share it now with Thomereau was certainly ominous of 
 evil. 
 
 It behooved me to put the best face possible upon the 
 matter, however, and I flatter myself that my step was 
 pretty firm as, under Anselme's guidance, I threaded the 
 corridors that led to the dread precincts. 
 
 As for Thomereau, his courage seemed suddenly to 
 have deserted him. He showed no disposition to laugh, 
 and his punning proclivities were in abeyance. I even 
 thought I could detect a suspicious trembling in the re- 
 gion of his knees. At all events, he walked very slowly, 
 and seemed in no hurry to reach his journey's end. 
 
 " What the devil can the principal want with us ? " he 
 asked, in a lugubrious tone. 
 
 " Parbleu, the thing is plain enough," said I, myself not 
 feeling particularly at ease, "it was your beastly Fores- 
 tons who secured the invitation for us." 
 
 If we had retained the least doubt on this point, it was 
 dissipated the moment we set foot in the sanctum of the 
 principal. He was seated, calm and grave, before his 
 
IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. 193 
 
 great desk of white oak, in the middle of a spacious study, 
 whose walls were lined with shelves loaded with books and 
 receptacles for documents. M. Desbans and the proctor 
 occupied chairs beside him. Lecachey was standing at a 
 window, with a rather chopfallen expression on his face ; 
 his left cheek was noticeably redder than the other. 
 
 " Come forward, gentlemen," M. Montus said to us, 
 upon our entrance. Then, in the same breath, addressing 
 Thomereau : 
 
 "This is not the first time," he said, in severe tones, 
 " that your vagaries have been brought to my attention, 
 but this one passes the limit of endurance. Whence 
 could you have derived the pitiful assurance to contrive 
 so scandalous a mystification, and employ it to the annoy- 
 ance of one of your masters and such a master ! He 
 who, above all, reflects honour on the lycee by his supe- 
 rior merit, and the fame of his achievements in the field 
 of science ! Oh, monsieur, if you have the least senti- 
 ment of decency left in you, you should have been over- 
 whelmed with shame at the mere thought of committing 
 an action, I will not say so offensive, for nothing ema- 
 nating from you can injure M. Desbans, but so low and 
 unmanly in one word, so impudent" 
 
 Thomereau was lividly pale. M. Desbans's eyes pleaded 
 for mercy for the culprit. 
 
 " Your fault is so grave," the principal continued, "that 
 my first impulse was to telegraph your parents to come 
 and remove you from the school. If I did not at once 
 carry my purpose into execution it is because M. Desbans 
 himself has interceded in your favour and urges me to 
 grant a respite. Rest assured that if I yield to his in- 
 stances it will not be from any consideration for you. I 
 am not certain that, instead of relinquishing my first 
 
 X'mfcttit: t.JBn>*/>r>^ 
 
 ** OFTHE ^>N 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
IQ4 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 intention, it is not my duty to rid Division No. I of a pupil 
 who has always been a centre of mischief and disorder. 
 As it is, however, your professor himself insists that 
 mercy be shown you. Moved by a sentiment that does 
 him honour, he objects to being the indirect and cer- 
 tainly entirely innocent cause of a sentence of expulsion 
 that would forever be a blot upon your future. I ought 
 not to leave you uninformed, monsieur, that he would not 
 even have condescended to complain of your transgression 
 had not the proctor's attention been drawn to the sorry 
 prank by the affray which resulted from it." 
 
 Here M. Montns looked at me in a way that gave me 
 food for reflection. 
 
 " So, for this once, I have again decided to be lenient 
 with you. Your punishment will be confinement within 
 the limits for the remainder of the term. But bear in 
 mind that you have only one fault more to commit, and 
 that on the first serious complaint sentence of expulsion 
 will be pronounced against you, from which there will be 
 no appeal. Thank M. Desbans for his kindness which 
 you have done so little to deserve, after which you may 
 join your classes." 
 
 " Crestfallen as a fox made prisoner by a hen," Tho- 
 mereau advanced a step toward M. Desbans and muttered 
 some almost unintelligible words. Our dear master seemed 
 hardly less embarrassed by his role than the malefactor 
 himself, but in the goodness of his heart he was not long 
 in finding a gracious word to say. 
 
 " Do not let this vex you more than it vexes me," he 
 said, extending his loyal hand to Thomereau, " and I 
 promise you that we shall continue to be good friends." 
 
 Then, as my turn was coming, he thought to spare me 
 the humiliation of being admonished in his presence ; with 
 
CRESTFALLEN AS A FOX MADE PRISONER BY A HEN. 
 
IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. 197 
 
 a comprehensive salutation to the assemblage he left the 
 room, the principal accompanying him to the door of the 
 antechamber. 
 
 " As for you, Monsieur Besnard," M. Montus resumed 
 when he had returned and seated himself at his desk, 
 "your offence is not of the same nature as Thomereau's, 
 but it cannot be allowed to pass unnoticed. It is not for 
 me to inquire into the motive which induced you to 
 commit so violent and brutal an assault on one of your 
 comrades." 
 
 Lecachey was present still, a silent listener to a con- 
 versation that had in it so little to flatter his self-esteem. 
 He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, and appeared totally 
 uninterested in what was going on. 
 
 I don't know what instinct told me that he must have 
 laid a complaint before the proctor, and that but for him 
 the affair would never have reached headquarters. At 
 the same moment the thought of the base accusation he 
 had brought against Baudouin recurred to my mind. 
 These tumultuous sentiments inspired me with a boldness 
 that to me was unusual. 
 
 " Mr. Principal," I suddenly said, " I feel it my duty to 
 say to you in all frankness that I cannot bring myself to 
 think that I was in the wrong, and that upon a repetition 
 of the circumstances I doubt if I should be able to 
 restrain an impulse that, in my opinion, was entirely 
 justifiable. It was not my own honour I was defending, 
 but a friend's, whom I could not stand by and in cold 
 blood hear outraged in that wherein he is most invulner- 
 able, his loyalty of character." 
 
 The principal shot a glance at Lecachey, who dared 
 not raise his eyes, and I thought I saw a faint indication 
 of a smile upon his lips, but if so he immediately re- 
 pressed it. 
 
198 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE 
 
 11 1 have nothing to do with your motives," he said, and 
 his tone was less harsh than were his words ; "all I have 
 to consider is the facts as they are. By your own 
 admission you have been guilty of a breach of the peace, 
 a thing that under no circumstances can I tolerate in the 
 lycee. All that remains for me to do is to inflict the 
 penalty, which in your case will be two months' confine- 
 ment to quarters, and you may consider yourself fortunate 
 to get off so easily. I know that you are applying your- 
 self, and are one of the best scholars of your class," 
 M. Montus was pleased to add. " It is for that reason 
 you have escaped a severer punishment." 
 
 He dismissed me with a nod of the head, and I retired, 
 in company with Thomereau, who by this time was pretty 
 well recovered from his panic. 
 
 " Tronc-de-C6ne is a good devil all the same ! " he said 
 to me as we were leisurely strolling back to Division 
 No. i. 
 
 The corridor we were pursuing was of considerable 
 length ; we were nearing its further extremity when our 
 attention was attracted by the report of a closing door, 
 and turning, we saw Lecachey emerging from the office of 
 the principal. Doubtless he had in turn been receiving 
 his compliment, brief, and to the point. 
 
 At that instant Lecachey raised his eyes and recognized 
 us. 
 
 He hesitated a moment and seemed to be debating, 
 inwardly, whether he should advance, but with sudden 
 determination he rapidly retreated his steps and took 
 refuge in the principal's antechamber. That was suffi- 
 cient to send us off at speed in the opposite direction, 
 toward our class-room. 
 
 And that was the last I ever saw of Lecachey. 
 
IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. 199 
 
 Whether it was that the central authority had meted 
 out to him a punishment for his share in the squabble 
 that he did not choose to submit to, or whether he was 
 not particularly desirous to face Baudouin and me again, 
 after this day he discontinued his attendance at the lycee. 
 
 I subsequently learned that he had informed his father 
 that he had amassed all the learning necessary for his 
 happiness, and did not see any necessity for completing 
 his studies in rhetoric. M. Lecachey had never been able 
 to oppose the caprices, however unreasonable, of his illus- 
 trious offspring. He was reputed on every hand to be a 
 man of great intelligence and remarkable aptitude for 
 business ; starting with moderate means, he had, in a few 
 years, made his banking house one of the first in Paris ; 
 but he lacked firmness, and allowed himself to be ruled in 
 everything by his wife and son, the latter a headstrong, 
 idle youth, the former a frivolous, empty-headed woman, 
 addicted to luxury and display, living in a constant tur- 
 moil of fetes and entertainments, and whose sole object in 
 life was to outshine her rivals with her expensive gowns 
 and smart equipages. 
 
 There might be something to be said in excuse of this 
 last-named point, however, owing to the immense pros- 
 perity of the banking concern, and the alleged necessity 
 for a certain amount of public show and ostentation. 
 
 " It is my wife whom I charge with spending my money," 
 the banker said to his friends. 
 
 But for his weakness toward his son there was no ex- 
 cuse, for it was not an excuse to believe that, because he 
 was sole heir to a handsome fortune, he was entitled to 
 live all his life an ignorant and useless member of society. 
 
 Be that as it may, however, on the present occasion M. 
 Lecachey interposed some feeble objections, urging his 
 
200 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 son to take his degree, and enter the law school, but in the 
 end yielded to the young man's arguments, with the pro- 
 viso that he should at once take his place behind a desk 
 in the paternal banking house. 
 
 Before the Easter holidays he had already been pro- 
 moted chief clerk in his father's private office. I often 
 wondered if he had a man specially attached to his person 
 to correct his faults of spelling and numerous other 
 blunders. 
 
 As for me, by the time Thomereau and I had regained 
 the class-room I had ceased to think of my prospective 
 confinement. 
 
 But alas ! I was obliged to think of it when, Sunday 
 after Sunday, the package of exeats was handed to M. 
 Valadier, and it contained none for me. 
 
 Baudouin had ultimately been apprised of the Lecachey 
 business and its consequences. He had at first main- 
 tained that his duty was to share my captivity, but had 
 finally yielded to my instances, and admitted the useless- 
 ness of immuring himself in the lycee during hours that 
 might be employed to better advantage. He had long 
 desired to make a thorough inspection of certain collec- 
 tions of prints and original drawings in our museums, 
 where I was less inclined than he to make protracted 
 visits, which frequently resulted in his depriving himself 
 of a pleasure, to spare me a slight inconvenience. It was 
 agreed that henceforth he should devote my days of con- 
 finement to these researches. 
 
 As for mamma, Aunt Aubert, my father and grand- 
 father, who suffered even more than I did from this long 
 famine of holidays, they fell into the habit of coming twice 
 a week, and spending the noonday recess with me in the 
 parlour. 
 
IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. 2OI 
 
 Aunt Aubert on these occasions never failed to bring 
 me certain jars of sweetmeats and pots of jam, that were 
 appreciated by Baudouin, Verschuren, and particularly by 
 Chavasse, even more gratefully than by me. All through 
 school life I adhered, as far as possible, to the excellent 
 habit of sharing with my comrades. Independently of the 
 very real pleasure that this proceeding afforded me, I dis- 
 covered in it an advantage that I had not calculated on, a 
 reciprocity of good offices on the part of others. If people 
 only knew how much they lose through selfishness, no one 
 would let himself be mastered by that odious vice. 
 
 Returning to my confinement, it was no small affliction, 
 every Sunday morning, to see my comrades, spick and 
 span in all the glory of clean linen, and shining boots, file 
 one by one through the open door at Anselme's vocifer- 
 ous summons, and go forth into the outer world. 
 
 Even when they heroically abstained from chaffing me 
 on my miserable lot, and did not congratulate me on the 
 inestimable privilege accorded me of remaining at the 
 lycee, and enjoying the dominical rice-cake, my feelings 
 were anything but cheerful, and I was rather inclined to 
 regard myself as a youthful martyr in the cause of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 But this very thought served to sustain my courage, 
 and inspired me with a certain degree of resignation. 
 Was it not for Baudouin's sake that I was suffering perse- 
 cution ? The affair had not been of my seeking. I had 
 obeyed a perfectly natural sentiment in publicly resenting 
 a slander, publicly uttered against my friend. Doubtless 
 I had done myself an injury, by not being a little more 
 discreet, but to stand still and do nothing would have been 
 treason to my devoted affection for Baudouin. Since I 
 was condemned to spend my days at the lycee there was 
 
2O2 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 but one thing left for me to do : utilize them to the best 
 of my ability by working hard, and thus steal a march on 
 my comrades. 
 
 And that is what I set to work to do, with a rather 
 heavy heart, it must be confessed. 
 
 One Saturday it was the Saturday of my second 
 week's captivity an idea occurred to me, that my mod- 
 esty alone deters me from qualifying as luminous in its 
 simplicity. 
 
 Dutheil and I were accustomed, during the four o'clock 
 recess, to run up for a few minutes to the library of the 
 lycee. It was a great room, whose walls were hidden by 
 books ; its furnishings consisted of a long table with a 
 green baize cover, and a few chairs, and it was under the 
 special charge of a youthful usher. It was open, for one 
 hour daily, to the students in rhetoric and philosophy 
 only. One had to rush up the staircase, call for the 
 books he wished to see, and make his notes with headlong 
 speed. 
 
 Brief as were these visits between a luncheon bolted 
 standing and afternoon recitation, they always left with 
 me a delicious memory. The orderly array of the books 
 in their rich bindings, mathematically aligned on shelves 
 of black varnished wood, the gilded titles, the peaceful 
 quiet of the room, even the odour of the old dusty tomes, 
 all contributed to inspire in me a sensation of reverence 
 and deep-seated joy, and one of my regrets was that we 
 were not permitted to remain longer in this sanctuary. 
 What would I not have given to be allowed to pass one 
 whole day there and rummage at will among the shelves ! 
 
 On the Saturday I spoke of, just as the drum beat 
 recalling us to our studies, something prompted me to ask 
 the youthful guardian if I might not be allowed to use the 
 
TJHIVERSIT 
 
 IN THE PRINCIPAL'S ROOM. 203 
 
 library on Sundays, seeing that I was under sentence of 
 confinement. 
 
 "There is only one thing to prevent," he replied, with 
 a laugh : " the library is closed on that day of the week. 
 I am not under sentence of confinement, thank the Lord, 
 and Sunday is my holiday ! " 
 
 I returned to the class-room in a despondent frame of 
 mind. My imagination had drawn a delicious picture of 
 the joy that would be mine if I might only spend my Sun- 
 day among those books instead of in the dormitory. 
 
 " Why should I not write to the principal and prefer a 
 request inform?" I suddenly asked myself. "There is 
 nothing wrong in my desire, and if the thing is contrary 
 to the regulations, why, there will be no great harm done." 
 
 I immediately sat down and applied myself to compos- 
 ing a petition. 
 
 " It must be in Latin! " I said to myself, developing my 
 idea. " It will be more likely to receive attention." 
 
 So I explained to M. Montus, eximie prcztor, that being 
 by his orders reduced to captivity until Easter (or the 
 sixth day after the ides of April), I should be glad to be 
 allowed to utilize that trying period by extending the cir- 
 cle of my literary attainments. In a word, permission to 
 use the library on Sundays would fill the measure of my 
 desires, and complete my earthly felicity, and if he would 
 accede to my request, he should always occupy a position 
 in my heart among the benefactors to humanity. 
 
 It was nearly seven o'clock before I had put the last 
 finishing touch to my production, and on my way down to 
 supper I gave it to Anselme, exhorting him to deliver it 
 at once. 
 
 It so happened that the principal was making one of 
 his periodical visits of inspection to the refectory that 
 
204 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 evening, and was walking with the proctor, in the lane 
 that separated the rows of tables. I saw him open the 
 envelope that Anselme handed him, and smile as he ran 
 his eye over my letter. It is hardly necessary to say that 
 I awaited his decision with anxiety. 
 
 He was too kind to keep me in suspense, and, as we 
 rose from table at the conclusion of the repast, beckoned 
 to me. 
 
 " I grant your request," he said, with a smile. " Your 
 idea is a good one, and I am pleased to see that you 
 propose to profit by the lessons of adversity. The only 
 condition I impose is that you use care in handling the 
 books in the library, where you will be alone, for it would 
 be unjust to deprive the attendant of his holiday for your 
 sole benefit. Anselme will give you the key to-morrow 
 morning at ten o'clock, and it will rest with you to merit 
 a continuance of the favour on the following Sundays." 
 
 I bowed respectfully, and followed my comrades. My 
 feet seemed hardly to touch the stairs, so lightly did I fly 
 up them to the dormitory. What was my captivity to me, 
 now ! I was sure that my time would be profitably spent. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. CON- 
 
 CIONES LATINS. MR. MURCHISON's IDEAS. 
 
 EASTER. PANADA. 
 
 THE next day, about two o'clock, I was ensconced 
 in the embrasure of one of the windows of the 
 library, and so absorbed in what I was reading that I did 
 not hear the door open. I raised my head at the sound 
 of a familiar voice. 
 
 " Hallo, is that you there in the window, M. Besnard ? " 
 said M. Aveline. ' I came here to look up some authori- 
 ties in the Bollandist collection, perhaps you wouldn't 
 mind lending me your assistance." 
 
 It was with great pleasure that I placed my services at 
 the disposal of my professor in history. I found in short 
 order the big volume that he named to me, laid it open on 
 the table, and M. Aveline was at liberty to go ahead and 
 hunt up the quotation that he needed. It took him some 
 minutes, during which time I remained at his side, and we 
 kept up a disconnected conversation. 
 
 " How comes it that you are at the lycee today ? " he 
 asked me. 
 
 I had to explain to him that I was paying the penalty 
 of a misdemeanour. 
 
 " Ah, so ! And you make good use of your time, I 
 am happy to see. What were you reading when I came 
 in ? " 
 
206 SCHOOLBOY DAYS JN FRANCE. 
 
 M. Aveline glanced at a chair near the place I had been 
 occupying, on which I had piled fifteen or twenty volumes 
 of Rollins, Mezerai's " History," Froissart's " Chronicles," 
 Chateaubriand's " Martyrs," and I know not what works 
 besides. 
 
 " Let me give you a bit of advice in return for your 
 politeness," he continued, with a smile. " If you wish to 
 make profitable use of your time, in an educational point 
 of view, I mean, as well as in regard to developing your 
 intelligence, do not scatter your efforts and do not read 
 at random. Lay out for yourself a line of historical 
 study. Select separately each day an epoch, a period, 
 some particular event or series of events, choose two or 
 three historians who have treated the matter competently, 
 and read, successively, the chapters that relate to your 
 special subject, taking copious notes, particularly where 
 there is a divergence of opinion. Then, this preliminary 
 labour accomplished, sum up for yourself, as briefly but 
 clearly as possible, the inferences you draw from the 
 comparison. Apply this method systematically to all 
 the subjects that you take up, and let me know what 
 you think of it." 
 
 " But how shall I know where to look for my au- 
 thorities ? " 
 
 " I will very gladly undertake to point them out to 
 you in the beginning, but you will not need my assistance 
 long. You will soon learn what author to refer to in 
 any particular case, and turn to him of your own 
 accord." 
 
 " What, monsieur, would you have the goodness 
 
 " It is for that purpose that I am your professor, and 
 you are aware that that is the foundation of my method 
 of instruction. At each recitation I mention the authors 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 2O/ 
 
 that may be consulted most advantageously on the lesson 
 of the day. If you desire further information, either in 
 regard to certain portions of that lesson, or concerning a 
 course of study that you may have laid out for yourself, 
 you need never fear to come to me. A professor is 
 only too glad to assist with his advice an industrious 
 and willing pupil." 
 
 A quarter of an hour after M. Aveline had left me, I 
 had already mapped out for myself a plan of study and 
 reading for the ensuing Sunday. Up to the present time 
 my only thought had been to derive as much enjoyment 
 as possible from my compulsory seclusion. I suddenly 
 saw the immense advantage that might accrue to me from 
 a system of methodical and well-directed research carried 
 on during these hours of supplementary labour. 
 
 From that day the life of the school underwent a 
 change for me, and I can truthfully say that my punish- 
 ment became a pleasure. I was working with a definite, 
 special end in view. I assigned to myself for each week 
 a certain determinate task, and it was not long before my 
 compositions began to manifest the practical advantage 
 that I derived from it. Those Sunday readings became 
 an actual necessity to me. The thought afforded me 
 extraordinary pleasure that I, a mere schoolboy and only 
 yesterday a thoughtless urchin, was in a position to trace 
 matters to their source, to compare texts, and on the 
 various occurrences of history to obtain, not information 
 at second hand, not the dry and juiceless summaries that 
 are found in the usual manuals and text-books, but the 
 breathing words and detailed opinions of the greatest 
 intellects. 
 
 In these auspicious circumstances I felt my intelligence 
 maturing as the ears of grain are expanded and gilded by 
 
208 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 the quickening sunshine. My literary style improved, 
 together with my intellectual faculties. Not a day passed 
 that was not marked by a long stride in advance. I saw 
 my way clear before me ; I knew where I wished to go, 
 and I advanced steadfastly in that direction. 
 
 The passion for thoroughness that I had contracted was 
 not confined to history ; it spread and grew, and presently 
 extended to all my other studies. I felt how senseless it 
 was to live for years side by side with the greatest writers 
 of antiquity and not extract from them all that they con- 
 tained. I made it my business to read them attentively, 
 to inform myself as to their lives, to study the principal 
 essays and criticisms on their works, to penetrate, more 
 deeply than I had done hitherto, the spiritual character- 
 istics of the men. And then, to my great delight, I saw 
 that what had been so colourless and, if I must say the 
 word, so tiresome, while confining myself to the daily 
 routine of the class, all at once became the most attractive 
 and interesting of studies. All things were suddenly 
 revealed to me in a new light. Like Aladdin with his 
 wonderful lamp, I proceeded in my cave from enchantment 
 to enchantment. 
 
 However, this enlargement of my labours and of my 
 ideas was not without its drawback. It inspired in me, 
 unwittingly, perhaps, a certain contempt for the ordinary 
 exercises of the class, and particularly, as I remember, 
 for the recitation of tasks. 
 
 I did not go so far as not to learn them, in the first 
 place because that was a matter that never gave me any 
 trouble, for I had an extremely good memory, and then 
 because for nothing in the world would I have put myself 
 in a false position and exposed myself to a reprimand. 
 But if I learned them it was perfunctorily, and I could 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 209 
 
 not help protesting in petto against what I considered a 
 waste of time. 
 
 I opened my mind on the subject, with great frankness, 
 to M. Pellerin one day that he had been obliged to punish 
 a boy for not knowing the first word of his lesson in the 
 Condones. 
 
 " Monsieur," I said to him, on the dismissal of the 
 class, in one of those informal conversations that he liked 
 to hold with five or six of us grouped round his desk, " I 
 have a doubt that I should be glad if you would solve. 
 Do you think it is really of advantage to pupils in 
 rhetoric to learn tasks by heart, and might they not 
 employ their time to better purpose ? For instance, 
 would it not be more profitable to read a hundred pages 
 of a good author than to addle one's brain trying to 
 learn to repeat, parrot fashion, twenty lines from the 
 Condones ? " 
 
 M. Pellerin laughed. " That is an objection which I 
 should scarcely have expected from you," he said. " Do 
 you suppose I would impose on you and your comrades a 
 duty whose efficacy had not been clearly demonstrated ? 
 No, the mere reading, no matter how attentively, of a 
 hundred pages by a good author can never have the same 
 effect as a lesson committed to memory. In the first 
 place, I should have to be assured that the hundred pages 
 had been actually read, which there is no means of doing, 
 while it is an easy matter for me to ascertain whether the 
 lesson has been learned or not. But outside this question 
 of conscience and performance, can you not see the differ- 
 ence there is between hastily skimming over a certain 
 number of pages of print and the perfect assimilation that 
 results from a task thoroughly mastered ? To learn a 
 page by heart, you are obliged to read it over and over, 
 
2IO SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 to get at its very marrow, to grasp its most insignificant 
 details. You make yourself master not only of the writer's 
 thoughts but of his style, and those thoughts, that style, 
 become an integral part of your being. Is not that by 
 itself a result of some importance ? Well, that result is 
 only a small fraction of the benefit you derive from mem- 
 orizing 
 
 I looked at M. Pellerin with an astonishment which I 
 made no attempt to conceal. 
 
 "In the first place," he resumed, "the effort required 
 to retain the task exercises your attention and accustoms 
 you to concentrate your mental faculties on one specific 
 object. In the second place, it exercises your memory, 
 unquestionably one of the most useful attributes of the 
 intelligence and which more than all the rest stands in 
 need of constant cultivation. .Finally, it assists in the 
 formation of your taste, it increases your stock of facts and 
 judgments. Don't you think that all those benefits com- 
 pensate for the trouble of memorizing a few lines daily ? " 
 
 " Certainly," I quickly replied, impressed by my master's 
 demonstration. " But might we not learn something 
 beside the Condones?" 
 
 "The Condones!" M. Pellerin exclaimed. "What! can 
 it be that you are one of those who fail to appreciate that 
 noble work at its true value ? Have you fallen into the 
 error, common to so many schoolboys, that causes them to 
 look disdainfully on any text-book that the experience of 
 their instructors places in their hands ? Have you never 
 noticed how admirable in every respect the book in ques- 
 tion is, and particularly how perfectly it is adapted to its 
 end ? Reflect, my lad, that the Condones is the very 
 essence of Titus Livius, Quintus Curtius, Sallust, and 
 Tacitus, that is to say of the four greatest historians in 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 211 
 
 Latin literature. Latin literature, it is unnecessary for 
 me to remind you, is the parent not only of our language, 
 but of our ideas, our morality, our genius itself. Well ! it 
 is the philosophy and the history of that great Roman 
 nation, our predecessor and our legislator, that you have 
 in substance in the Condones, set forth by the pen of its 
 most illustrious writers in prose 
 
 M. Pellerin paused for a moment, but went on again 
 almost immediately : 
 
 " There is more to be said. This resume is not a dry 
 and impersonal narrative, a bare summary of occurrences 
 and facts. It is a living and breathing discussion of the 
 highest interests of Roman policy. Together with the 
 consuls, the generals, and the senators of the great re- 
 public, you penetrate the very heart of the questions that 
 influenced their actions. You are transported to the 
 council hall, to the forum, to the head of conquering 
 armies. You follow them in the discussion of the motives 
 which dictate their actions and direct their conduct. You 
 put yourself, to a certain extent, in their place. The whole 
 scene lives again before you, it is the age, the very abstract 
 and mirror of the time that rise before your vision. Do 
 you think it would be easy to find another book as well 
 calculated to develop, at the same time, your imagination 
 and your judgment, and add the crowning sheaf to your 
 classic studies ? Believe me, the Condones could not be 
 readily replaced. To produce it required the profound 
 scholarship, the familiarity with the literature of the 
 ancients, and the didactic genius of a Henri Estienne, 
 second of the name." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that Henri Estienne, the great 
 printer and learned pundit of the sixteenth century, was 
 the author of the Condones ? " 
 
212 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Certainly. He it was who first conceived the idea of 
 collecting in a single volume the beauties of the four great 
 Roman historians, and that is not the least of the services 
 that he rendered to French literature. I have no hesi- 
 tation in saying that all Corneille, all Racine, all the great 
 school of political reasoners, and all the century of Louis 
 XV., show very distinctly the influence of the Condones. 
 Although it is not generally known, it is one of the books 
 that have most contributed to impart to classic thought its 
 definitive imprint. In this respect, and in many more 
 besides, it deserves the high place which it holds in our 
 system of instruction, and will continue to hold forever, I 
 hope and trust." 
 
 Thus on occasion would M. Pellerin correct in my views 
 the narrowness arising from an excess of zeal, a fault not 
 uncommon among neophytes. 
 
 With M. Aveline and M. Desbans, moreover, he was 
 not the only master by whose councils I profited. For 
 some time past I had seen in the English lessons a new 
 weapon with which to attack the supremacy of Dutheil, 
 the most redoubtable of my rivals. He manifested for the 
 living languages a contempt that was difficult of explana- 
 tion in one. as intelligent and industrious as he, performed 
 his exercises in English perfunctorily without exhibiting 
 the slightest interest, and, as in mathematics, held in his 
 class a secondary place. 
 
 Our professor, Mr. Murchison, was a most estimable 
 man, very gentle and polite, very intelligent, with a hand- 
 some pair of white side-whiskers, and a complexion rosy 
 as an albino's. His method had a deserved celebrity 
 throughout the university, and he could point with justifi- 
 able pride to the fact that he had taught the generations 
 of young Parisians more English than thirty editions of 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 21$ 
 
 the most widely circulated dictionary. He spoke French 
 as fluently as his mother tongue, and, except for the two 
 words syllabe and possessif, which he invariably pronounced 
 syllable and poze-ssif, his accent would not have betrayed 
 him as one born beyond the Channel. Add to these 
 details a large share of that national self-complacency for 
 which his countrymen are so eminently distinguished, the 
 opinion that English, being spoken by about two hundred 
 and fifty millions of men, is entitled to the front rank in 
 the hierarchy of languages, and the unalterable conviction 
 that Shakespeare is the mightiest of literary geniuses, 
 past, present, or to come, in all other respects, an 
 irreproachable master. 
 
 He had a number of little methods, personal to himself, 
 for inspiring us with an interest in our work. 
 
 For instance, he thought, and quite correctly, too, that, 
 in the study of the modern languages, everything, or 
 pretty nearly everything, must be accomplished through 
 the medium of the ear, and, for that reason, while he was 
 excessively exacting as regarded punctuality in attendance 
 at recitations, the exercises he gave us to do were of the 
 briefest. 
 
 The business of the class was almost wholly transacted 
 at the blackboard. 
 
 Another of his theories was that, the pupils' faculties 
 being brighter at the beginning than at the end of a les- 
 son, it was desirable to take advantage of that important 
 circumstance. Accordingly, he selected that moment for 
 putting us through the exercises that required most mental 
 effort, instead of employing the first half of the hour in 
 recitation or revising compositions. 
 
 He considered the day as lost that did not witness a 
 step taken in advance, and regarded that class as on the 
 
 or THE ^ >i 
 tmiVERSITT) 
 
214 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 road to ruin whose every member did not carry away with 
 him at the end of the session some fresh acquisition. It 
 was his custom, on our arrival, to write out on the black- 
 board some terse observation connected with the business 
 of the day, and make us repeat it until he saw that the 
 class had mastered it. 
 
 As regards pronunciation, he had a very simple but 
 unerring method, which I often wonder is not more gen- 
 erally employed. It consisted in writing on the black- 
 board two lines of English prose, reading them aloud, and 
 then making us all repeat them, one after the other, from 
 the first to the last. It took from seven to eight minutes 
 at each recitation, and I cannot tell you what thorough 
 masters of English pronunciation a few months of this 
 drill made us. 
 
 Speaking of this, Mr. Murchison used to say that the 
 great fault of teachers of language generally was that 
 they attempted to teach their pupils the sound of separate 
 words, instead of taking the words connected in sentences, 
 which is their normal relation, a system which causes as 
 much trouble to remember the sound of an isolated word, 
 that is to say in its exceptional condition, as is required to 
 grasp the word fused in a phrase and connected with the 
 adjoining words, which is its natural condition. I have 
 known persons who could take up an English or German 
 newspaper and read it offhand, and yet could not under- 
 stand a word spoken in one of those idioms. The reason 
 was that their ear had not been early familiarized with the 
 change that the rapid pronunciation of the syllables seems 
 to produce in words that are familiar when taken separately. 
 
 Finally, Mr. Murchison had an inflexible rule in regard 
 to compositions, which was to prohibit the use of the 
 dictionary except where absolutely necessary. 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 21$ 
 
 " Where is the proof that you. have acquired a suffi- 
 ciently extensive vocabulary," he said, "if you are not 
 capable of drawing from your own resources the words 
 required for a translation ? What you accomplish with 
 the assistance of the dictionary is mere machine work; 
 your theme or version will be more or less successful in 
 proportion to the amount of labour you devote to thumbing 
 its pages ; but nothing will prove that you have actually 
 made your own the words which you employ. So, down 
 with the dictionary, when it comes to a trial of ability ! " 
 
 Such were some of Mr. Murchison's characteristic 
 notions. Taken in connection with his foreign aspect, 
 the coldness and reserve of his manners, his ultra British 
 habits of dress and bearing, they formed an ensemble full 
 of flavour and originality, which contrasted agreeably with 
 the rather colourless tone of our classes and made the 
 hours spent in his room extremely pleasant to me. 
 
 Willy-nilly, one had to absorb a certain modicum of Eng- 
 lish with him ; but, as I have said, Dutheil put no life into 
 his work, and that inspired me with the idea of devoting all 
 my energies to a branch that he seemed to be neglecting. 
 
 "Would n't you like to know English ? " I said to him 
 one day. " I should think it must be very nice to be able 
 to speak a foreign language." 
 
 " My dear fellow," he replied with a self-satisfied air, 
 " I am not so ambitious ; I shall be content to speak my 
 own correctly." 
 
 "The one thing is no hindrance to the other. You 
 may have a thorough mastery of French and none the less 
 know English." 
 
 " I have no desire that way. English is of no benefit 
 to one, except in trade, and I have no intention of becom- 
 ing a merchant." 
 
2l6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 " You may be compelled to take up business. And 
 then there is an English literature, which it seems to me 
 might tempt your curiosity." 
 
 " I can read it in translations." 
 
 " The inhabitants of a quarter of the earth speak Eng- 
 lish, and you may take it in your head to travel some day." 
 
 " Good ! where is the civilized country where you won't 
 find a French cook to prepare your breakfast, and a Swiss 
 waiter to act as interpreter ? " 
 
 I said no more, but I adhered to my purpose, and ap- 
 plied myself to my studies under Mr. Murchison with such 
 good-will, that in a few months I could read English prose 
 without the assistance of a dictionary. My father, pleased 
 to see this decided inclination on my part, was desirous of 
 seconding it, and presented me with the complete works 
 of Dickens and Thackeray, which he ordered direct from 
 London. What I could read of them in my leisure mo- 
 ments interested me more than I can tell, and at the 
 same time was excellent practice for me. 
 
 It happened on one of the Sundays of my captivity that 
 I discovered in the library of the lycee the historical 
 works of Hallam and Macaulay. There was a source of 
 information to which it was not likely that my classmates, 
 and especially Dutheil, would readily secure access. I at 
 once placed the two great writers on the list of my select 
 authorities, and I found them so rich in broad and novel 
 views, I extracted from them such treasures of infor- 
 mation, that my compositions immediately showed the 
 effect, and secured me M. Aveline's commendation. 
 
 Much elated by this success, I redoubled my efforts, 
 without saying anything of my discovery, and two or three 
 times, one after the other, I had the satisfaction of taking 
 first place from Dutheil. When at last the Easter holi- 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 21? 
 
 days arrived, and with them the en<i of my imprisonment, 
 those long sojourns in a room full of books, with bound- 
 less information at my disposal, had become to me such 
 an agreeable habit, that what before was an intellectual 
 luxury was now a necessity. 
 
 Each morning, therefore, after the breakfast at the 
 family table where I sat once more in company with those 
 dear to me, Baudouin and I would set out for the centre 
 of Paris. He would betake himself to the Louvre, where 
 he had obtained permission to sketch, and spend his day 
 in reproducing on paper the finest of the antique marbles. 
 As for me, I sped away to the Library Sainte-Genevieve, 
 where I devoured the works of Sismondi, Augustin Thi- 
 erry, Henri Martin, and Michelet. At four o'clock we 
 met at the Luxembourg for a short, sharp game of football 
 or a walk, and by six were home and ready for our dinner. 
 
 Those were holidays as were holidays ! Baudouin and I 
 would not have grumbled had they been protracted to the 
 end of time. But life is not all vacation, more's the pity ! 
 
 As M. Aveline had told me would be the case, I was 
 now so well aquainted with the principal historical works 
 that would be of service to me in the course of study for 
 the year, that it was an easy matter for me to foretell, a 
 week or two in advance, the volumes that I should stand 
 in need of ; when they were not on the shelves of the 
 library of the lycee, or when I had not time to consult 
 them during the brief daily period that the library was 
 open, I had only to mention their titles to my father, who 
 always took pleasure in procuring them for me. 
 
 I soon knew the delight of possessing a small library of 
 my own, with all my favourite authors, in whose company I 
 spent many a happy Sunday ; this was the nucleus about 
 which gathered the modest but, in my eyes, priceless col- 
 
2l8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 lection of books among which I still continue to spend so 
 many pleasant hours. 
 
 And speaking of this, I often wonder how it is that, since 
 the invention of printing, there still exist such multitudes 
 of people who are continually saying, / dorit know what 
 to do with myself ! as if there were not books in abun- 
 dance to afford them pleasure, distraction, and useful 
 instruction, all at the same time ! 
 
 As for me, I aver that never in my life was I bored but 
 once, and that was in a little lonely railway station on an 
 abominably rainy day, when I had left my travelling bag 
 with all my books behind me in the train from which I 
 had just descended. As it was, I amused myself for an 
 hour or two by reading the rules and regulations that 
 were posted everywhere on the walls. 
 
 But to come back to the Lycee Montaigne. If the first 
 semestre had brought me fewer honours than punishments, 
 during the ensuing three months, I am happy to state, I 
 became a model of scholastic virtue, having incurred dis- 
 grace but once. And even then I was innocent. Read 
 and judge for yourselves ! 
 
 Contrary to my usual habit, I had conscientiously done 
 my duty by the panada which constituted our early meal, 
 when Chavasse, one of my table companions, under the 
 inspiration of some unfriendly demon, doubtless, took it 
 in his head to exclaim : 
 
 " The devil take the panada ! Did one ever see such a 
 rotten mess ! " 
 
 The expression was overheard by an usher, who turned 
 on us as if he had been stung by a viper. 
 
 "That is unparliamentary language, gentlemen," he 
 said, " and will entitle the speaker to a half-day's confine- 
 ment. I require a 'responsible.' ' 
 
MOLECULE BROUGHT OUT THE NUMBER 1132. IT 
 WAS MINE ! " 
 

 OF THE 
 IVERSITT 
 > 
 
 
PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 221 
 
 It was the custom at the Lycee. Montaigne, for petty 
 offences like the present, to select a "responsible," or one 
 who should suffer vicariously for the rest ; this with the 
 intention that all should be interested in the maintenance 
 of order and discipline. By virtue of a tacit agreement 
 between us it was also understood that the real offender 
 was, under no circumstances, to reveal his identity. Lots 
 were drawn to see who should be "responsible," and he 
 took his punishment without a murmur. Experience had 
 demonstrated that this method afforded a way of avoiding 
 much equivocation and recrimination, while at the same 
 time it facilitated the position of the expiatory victim with 
 the faculty and the families themselves. How could one 
 find it in his heart to be angry with a poor boy who 
 said : 
 
 " Theoretically, I am innocent. Practically, we drew 
 lots to see who should take the punishment, and it was I 
 who ' won ! ' ; 
 
 The usher had no more than pronounced his decree 
 than Thomereau, with a zeal that appeared of doubtful 
 taste, collected all the napkin-rings on the table, and, 
 shaking them up in his cap, presented them to Molecule, 
 his neighbour, for the decision of the lot. 
 
 Molecule brought out the number 1132. It was 
 mine ! 
 
 " Monsieur Besnard, you are confined to quarters until 
 two o'clock," said the usher, inscribing my name in his 
 memorandum book. 
 
 That was a disgrace for which I certainly had no cause 
 to blush, and it has never troubled my conscience. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN DEEP WATER. 
 
 SUMMER is upon us once more. It is only a few 
 weeks before the closing exercises and the examina- 
 tions for admission to the great schools. You should see 
 how we work nowadays in Division No. I. We tug and 
 strain at the collar, and everybody "crams." 
 
 Segol will only talk in Latin verse. Dutheil is pale 
 about the lips, and the only spot of red in his broad face 
 is the eyes. It has been ascertained that he sleeps but 
 half the night, and gets up surreptitiously to study by the 
 light of the night lamp in the dormitory. 
 
 Molecule restricts himself to a sonnet or two a day. 
 
 Verschuren himself beholds with terror the approach 
 of the moment when impartial judges will compare his 
 merits with those of the other candidates for Saint-Cyr, 
 and spends his recess going about among his comrades 
 beseeching them to ask him " stumpers." In geography 
 he shows remarkable strength in regard to "basins," and 
 in "capitols of sous-prefectures" is without a rival. 
 
 Perhaps he owes this superiority to a peculiar geog- 
 raphy that Thomereau has placed in circulation, the 
 French department subjected to the treatment that the 
 Marquis de Mascarille would have inflicted on Roman 
 history, and celebrated not only in verse but in puns and 
 verbal quibbles. 
 
XfS 
 
 r HE 
 
 (tfNIVERSITT 
 
 ^^^lF F QHH\fa^' 
 IN DEEP WATER. 22$ 
 
 " The Mans-Sarthe (mansards, garrets) have often shel- 
 tered poets That means that le Mans is the capital 
 of the department of la Sarthe. There is a brilliant effort 
 like this for each one of the departments. 
 
 Nor is this ingenious system of mnemotechnics con- 
 fined to geography. Thomereau, who is not ambitious, 
 and will be content so that he captures his sheepskin, no 
 matter by what means, has invented similar contrivances 
 that he applies to all sorts of subjects. For instance, 
 instead of burdening his mind with the names of the 
 twelve Roman emperors, he finds it more convenient to 
 engrave on his memory the three cabalistic words, 
 
 Cesautica, ClaitnJgalo, Vivestido, 
 
 which signify Caesar, Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, Clau- 
 dius, Nero, Galba, Otho, Vitellius, Vespasian, Titus, Do- 
 mitian. 
 
 As for Baudouin, he continues to give the arts his 
 preference. As soon as he has completed his tasks he 
 sits down contentedly to copy photographs of antique 
 statuary, engravings, or even anatomical charts. 
 
 Finally, as regards myself, Latin and French composi- 
 tion and history claim most of my attention. Every day 
 there is a page of Bossuet, a page of Pascal, and a page of 
 Cicero to be learned by heart, in addition to the diurnal 
 lessons and exercises and my historical readings. 
 
 Time flies with astonishing rapidity. It seems as if we 
 would never be able to " review" all the studies that we 
 are expected to be perfect in at the great final trial. We 
 grudge the hours that we are forced to lose on Sundays, 
 and, without mentioning the matter to the comrades, carry 
 away a volume or two under our tunics in order that we 
 may " grub " at home. 
 
224 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The month of June is here. The heat is stifling. In 
 the class-room, notwithstanding the open doors and win- 
 dows, heads seem to fairly steam and smoke under the 
 tension of the unceasing labour. It is the fashion to 
 wear the hair cropped close, and we resemble a collection 
 of Dutch cheeses. 
 
 " It looks more businesslike," Dutheil assures us, " and 
 tends to give the examiners a good opinion of you." 
 
 It is also more convenient for the cold bath, and the 
 cold bath is our weak spot. We love it to distraction. 
 
 Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, we rise at 
 four in the morning. We hurry on our clothes, we follow 
 the line of the quays, and ascend as far as the Bridge of 
 Austerlitz, where a great bathing establishment, floored 
 with wood, is reserved until seven o'clock for the exclu- 
 sive use of the lycee. The distance is considerable, but 
 the water is much cleaner than at the Pont-Neuf or the 
 Pont-Royal, where the sewers of the great city disgorge 
 their tribute. 
 
 Oh, the beneficent cool water! and how good it feels 
 to dip one's head under the limpid stream ! The Girafe 
 is never empty ; there is an endless chain of swimmers 
 storming its defences on their way to the platform. Look 
 out for your heads, and woe to the late comers ! Scarcely 
 has one diver cleft the wave, as Molecule says, who is 
 nothing if not classic in his language, than another is on 
 his heels. And how they shout and laugh ! Why can't 
 we have such a jolly time every morning ? 
 
 " I have an idea," Baudouin said to me one day. " You 
 have noticed the skylight over the toilet - room at the 
 bottom of the dormitory ? Well, the first time you find 
 the skylight open, hoist yourself up by your hands, use 
 your eyes, and tell me what you see." 
 
IN DEEP WATER. 22$ 
 
 I did as Baudouin directed, and beheld, immediately 
 under me, the most magnificent bath-tub that one could 
 dream of in all Paris ! It was a public reservoir for sup- 
 plying the quarter, a hundred metres long by forty or fifty 
 wide, filled with cold, clear, translucent water, up to the 
 level of the second story of the lycee. As our quarters 
 were no higher than the third story, Baudouin' s idea 
 needed no further explanation. All devotees of the cold 
 bath will understand to what acts of madness the passion 
 may lead. 
 
 The very next night saw us at work. 
 
 Three o'clock had struck and the sky was already 
 beginning to be tinted with the pearly hues of the coming 
 dawn when, gliding noiselessly into the toilet-room, the 
 door of which, opening on .the dormitory, was always 
 open, we raised ourselves to the roof through the glazed 
 skylight. From there to make our way down to the 
 broad walk, formed by the massive masonry that enclosed 
 the basin and protected the adjoining buildings, was 
 merely child's play for us ; all we had to do was to hang 
 by the gutter and let ourselves drop a distance of little 
 more than two metres. 
 
 Our retreat, moreover, was assured by a feed pipe of 
 ample dimensions in one corner, on which we counted to 
 afford us a safe and convenient means of exit. There 
 was a joint in the pipe which the plumber had most 
 obligingly surrounded with a great ring of solder, thus 
 forming a veritable ladder. There was nothing calculated 
 to frighten us there, after our experience in the gymnasium. 
 
 On closer inspection, the reservoir resembled one of 
 those great graving-docks that are met with in seaports. 
 Around us nothing but high, white walls destitute of 
 windows, the silence of the night and the cool breath 
 
226 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the morning. A little inconstant breeze that blew 
 across the surface of the slumbering water, ruffling it in 
 spots, gave it the appearance of a lake. 
 
 In less time than it takes to tell it, we have thrown off 
 the few garments that we had on ; then, one, two, three ! 
 and we dive headlong ! 
 
 Brrr ! how cold it is ! That spring water, constantly 
 renewed and brought to the spot in underground conduits, 
 doubtless from a distance, for the consumption of the 
 quarter, is at least ten degrees colder than the water of 
 the Seine. But who cares ! the pleasure is all the greater 
 in this canicular heat. 
 
 The time passed so quickly that we were astounded on 
 hearing the clock strike four. It was broad day by this 
 time. 
 
 To return to the bank, shiveringly resume our linen 
 garments, and return by the way we came, was the affair 
 of a moment, and when the morning drum beat we were 
 awakened from a salutary slumber. No one even sus- 
 pected our expedition. 
 
 We were so well pleased with our experience that we 
 failed not to repeat it on the ensuing nights, with various 
 modifications and improvements. For instance, having 
 noticed that our aquatic exercises gave us a ferocious 
 appetite, and that we suffered greatly on account of our 
 inability to appease it until the seven o'clock breakfast, we 
 took the precaution during the day to lay aside a supply 
 of bread. The little matutinal luncheon came in very 
 acceptably, and afforded an additional zest to our nata- 
 torial diversions. 
 
 After that our satisfaction was unalloyed, and we 
 looked down, disdainfully, on the pigmy swimmers of the 
 Pont d'Austerlitz in their wooden -bottomed bath. We 
 
IN DEEP WATER. 22 / 
 
 even came to neglect entirely what we now called that 
 " cheap and nasty resort," the swimming - school, and 
 to stick close by the lycee on Wednesday and Friday 
 mornings, greatly to the surprise of our comrades. 
 
 For some three weeks we had thus been utilizing the 
 drinking water of the indigenes of Chaillot for oiir own 
 pleasure, and nothing had happened to mar our enjoyment, 
 when one morning, right in the middle of our sport, 
 Baudouin suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " It Is queer, but the bank of the reservoir looks to be 
 higher than it was a little while ago ! " 
 
 I looked in the direction he was looking. There could 
 be no mistake about it : the level of the water had fallen 
 considerably. When we went in there was an interval 
 between its surface and the top of the retaining wall of 
 not more than twenty -five or thirty centimetres. Now 
 that interval was fully two metres. 
 
 The dimness of the early morning light could alone 
 explain why we had failed to notice the phenomenon 
 sooner, for the basin appeared now to be not more than 
 half full, as when a dam is opened to draw off the water 
 of a pond. 
 
 "Look alive!" I said to Baudouin, "or we sha' n't be 
 able to get out." 
 
 We struck out vigorously for the bank. 
 
 Alas ! already it was too late. The brink was beyond 
 our reach, and the slimy, slippery walls of the reservoir, 
 built of cut stone and without seam or crevice, afforded 
 us no hold. 
 
 " There must be a ring somewhere, a grating, or iron- 
 work of some description," Baudouin calmly said. " Let 's 
 swim easily and make the circuit of the enceinte ; we 
 can't fail to find something to hold on by." 
 
228 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 We proceeded to swim slowly round the basin, like gold- 
 fish circumnavigating their little world behind its walls of 
 glass. 
 
 There was no sign of a ring or grating, nor did the 
 least support of any kind present itself to our prying 
 glances. But on the other hand the level of the water 
 continued to sink, though the movement was so slow as 
 to be imperceptible. There was now a perpendicular 
 surface, of a smoothness that was our despair, at least 
 three metres high, between us and the brink. The. basin 
 was beginning to appear strangely narrow and confined. 
 
 " They are evidently emptying the reservoir, '? I said to 
 Baudouin, "and the longer we remain here the more 
 difficulty we shall find in getting out." 
 
 "That is perfectly clear. So clear that there is but 
 one thing for us to do, wait patiently for the water to 
 flow in again," he replied, with fine imperturbability. 
 
 " It does n-t look as if there were much prospect of its 
 doing so at present," I rejoined, stretching myself on my 
 back and floating. 
 
 "That is a good idea!" said Baudouin. "We may 
 have some hours to wait, and it will be well for us to 
 husband our strength." 
 
 So we floated in a state of almost perfect quiescence, 
 waiting for developments and turning our heads from time 
 to time for a glance at the walls of our prison-house. 
 They were rising higher and higher, like the hull .of a 
 stranded ship left bare by the receding tide, while the sun, 
 rising over the roofs of the neighbouring houses, was 
 already beginning to gild their crest. We heard the roll 
 of the drum and the shuffling of multitudinous footsteps 
 as the inmates of the lycee descended the staircase of the 
 dormitories. 
 
IN DEEP WATER. 229 
 
 The clocks struck seven. We were less cheerful than 
 we had been. The cold began to tell on us. Our limbs 
 were numb and stiff. It was becoming more and more 
 difficult to keep ourselves afloat. 
 
 " If we had only thought to bring our victuals with us," 
 said Baudouin with a reflective air, " instead of leaving 
 them with our trousers ! " 
 
 But that was a vain regret. To swim, to keep swimming, 
 therein lay our only hope of safety. Our punishment was 
 certainly fitted to our crime ! 
 
 For a long time we had not spoken a word to each 
 other. I know not what Baudouin' s reflections may have 
 been, but for my part I was .conscious of a growing sensa- 
 tion of weakness. It was not only that I had not strength 
 to keep myself afloat, but I scarcely desired to have it. 
 
 The sun, pouring its rays on our bare heads, deranged 
 my thoughts, blinded me, almost drove me frantic. I 
 had a confused feeling that I was going to drown, and 
 I told myself, with what little reflection I had remaining, 
 that it was absurd to die in that way, without profit or 
 glory, at the bottom of a cistern. 
 
 Would our corpses ever be recognized ? Would the 
 manner of our death ever become known ? 
 
 Suddenly a joyful cry broke in upon the ringing in my 
 ears: 
 
 " I have touched bottom ! We are saved ! The 
 reservoir is nearly empty ! " 
 
 It is Baudouin's voice, and his call gives me strength to 
 drag myself to the wall and' support myself against it. It 
 is as much as I can do. But for him I feel that I must have 
 gone under and drowned in the four feet of water that re- 
 main. But he sustains me and speaks words of cheer to me. 
 
230 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 Fifteen minutes more and the water has all run off. 
 We are standing dry-footed among the debris of every 
 kind that chance or the winds of heaven have wafted 
 thither : rags, old shoes, dead leaves, the nameless relics 
 of the neighbouring civilization. We have fallen, measuring 
 our length on the stone flooring, and roasting in the sun- 
 shine like crocodiles in the dry bed of an African torrent. 
 Fatigue and hunger have proved too much for our resolu- 
 tion. We are seized with an unconquerable desire to 
 sleep ; we resist, but ineffectually, and are on the point of 
 yielding to that slumber which would be death under the 
 lethal arrows of that fiery globe, when above us, fifteen 
 metres over our heads, a clatter of wooden shoes is heard. 
 
 Ah, the sweet music ! It was an army of sweeps and 
 scavengers, come to clear out the reservoir. 
 
 We are saved ! But at the cost of what terrible humilia- 
 tion ! We felt that it would have been a distinct blessing 
 could we have vanished into thin air when it became neces- 
 sary to explain to the foreman of the gang the reason of 
 our sorry state, endure the cruel laughter of the Auvergnats 
 while awaiting the arrival of the ladder that was to rescue us 
 from our plight, and, finally, reenter the lycee by the great 
 door under the unsympathizing eye of the concierge. 
 
 The three days' confinement that worthily crowned our 
 achievements was nothing compared with these earlier 
 troubles. I have told what means I had at command to 
 alleviate the horrors of that punishment. I have only a 
 faint recollection of the four or five days of fever during 
 which we alternately burned and froze on a cot in the 
 hospital of the lycee, at a time when every hour was 
 precious. Fever and punishment were alike well earned. 
 
 Where are you, fatigues, dangers, sorrows of those 
 happy days ? Gone, never to return ! 
 
IT W\^ AN ARMY OF SWEEPS AND SCAVENGERS. 
 
OF THE 
 
 tJlTIVERSITY 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 EXAMINATIONS. HOW KINDRED SPIRITS MEET. 
 
 THE time of supreme effort was come, the exercises 
 of the general examination had begun. Notwith- 
 standing the time I had lost, I had turned the last months 
 of my year to such good account under M. Pellerin's 
 guidance that I felt I had some reason to be hopeful. I 
 had been five or six times first in French and Latin com- 
 position, history, and Greek translation, and second more 
 frequently. With Dutheil and Se"gol I was now consid- 
 ered one of Montaigne's champions. 
 
 We set out for the Sorbonne at six o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, shortly after we came down from the dormitory. 
 There were sixteen of us in our little band, five veterans, 
 ten freshmen, and a " stop-gap," or alternate, headed by 
 an usher. Each one of us had breakfasted off a cutlet and 
 a cup of coffee, and had in addition received a viaticum in 
 the shape of a roll, a piece of sausage and a bottle of wine. 
 These aliments were confided to the capacious recesses of 
 the classic net. 
 
 The net ! is it not the epitome of the whole examina- 
 tion for three-fourths of the contestants ? What student 
 would not think he was marching without weapons to the 
 conflict unless he had first slung this poke across his 
 shoulder, dictionary in one end, sausage in the other ? 
 
 But it is not everything to possess a net ; it must also 
 be well garnished. As we passed through the Rue de 
 
234 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 Buci, therefore, we failed not to supplement its contents 
 with a cold chicken, a pate with crust of golden brown, 
 and, perhaps, a supernumerary bottle. Those of a sybaritic 
 turn added cherries and even pots of cream. In the Rue 
 Saint - Jacques mention is still occasionally made of a 
 young voluptuary who came in one morning with a cargo 
 of bananas. 
 
 On that day the subject we were to be examined on 
 was Latin composition. I had already competed for the 
 prize in history and French composition, so that the 
 spectacle no longer had the attraction of novelty for my 
 eyes. But is not the twentieth review in which a soldier 
 participates as interesting to him as the first? Little 
 variety as the scene possessed, I contemplated it with 
 unaltered curiosity. 
 
 It was nearly seven o'clock when we came out on the 
 Place Gerson, in the midst of the contingents of the other 
 lycees. There were the champions of Saint-Louis, of 
 Descartes, of Stanislas, en potache, that is to say in uni- 
 form like us ; the Sainte-Barbes in roundabouts, the Con- 
 dorcets en pekins, the Charlemagnes in attire of various 
 descriptions. Then come the Rollins, and the braves of 
 Louis-le-Grand. Not a moment passed but some new 
 detachment came marching up. Celebrities were recog- 
 nized and pointed out as they passed, the honour men of 
 the previous year, the probable victors of the present as 
 designated by the rumour of the lycees. . The noise and 
 chatter, in the narrow place shut in on three sides by 
 lofty buildings, was like the buzzing of a swarm of 
 bees. 
 
 The black damp walls of the venerable Sorbonne, its 
 back turned to the rising sun, in the bright crisp morning 
 air resembled the facade of some necropolis. A necropolis 
 
" WE CAME OUT ON THE PLACE GERSON. 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
EX A MINA TIONS. 237 
 
 of traditions and memories, at all events ! On how many 
 generations of schoolboys, pressing forward like us in 
 close array, eager, impatient, ambitious, had not those old 
 walls looked down, and how many more were they yet 
 to behold ere they should crumble away in dust ! Look- 
 ing at them, with their grimy, weather-beaten face, the 
 thought rose to one's mind that, could they talk, what 
 tales they might tell of the scholars of bygone times, our 
 predecessors of four centuries ago, concerning whom the 
 grave M. Quicherat has given us such realistic details : 
 
 " Save for the professor's chair, the classes had neither benches 
 nor seats of any kind. The floor was strewn with straw in winter, 
 with fresh-cut grass in the summer season. The scholars wallowed 
 in this litter, ostensibly for reasons of humility. Their uniform, a 
 long loose gown, belted to the form with a leather strap, served the 
 twofold purpose of collecting and concealing filth. In the refectory 
 during meals it was forbidden (the reader will pardon the crudity of 
 this historical detail) , it was forbidden to raise the hand to the cap, 
 such was the fear inspired by the condition of the young men's 
 heads ! " 
 
 All those old memories came crowding back upon my 
 mind during those few minutes of silent waiting. The 
 strange faces of my comrades of a day gave me the im- 
 pression of a race of shadows. Casting my eyes up to 
 the antique clock set in the sombre facade, I experienced 
 the same superstitious thrill that made my flesh creep in 
 presence of the Egyptian and Assyrian colossi in the 
 galleries of the Louvre. Even the great mouldering door 
 before which we were drawn up, and whose twin leaves 
 remained mysteriously closed, as if it had been the 
 mouth of a granite sphinx, contributed to add to this 
 effect and to inspire me with a secret awe. 
 
238 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 It is seven o'clock at last. The two leaves of the door 
 are thrown back with a clash and clatter of iron bars 
 and creaking of rusty hinges. The great hall where the 
 examinations are held appears before us, bare as a meeting- 
 house, its white walls pierced with lofty windows. 
 
 At the end of the central aisle is the desk appropriated 
 to the judges, all emeritus professors, all in stiff white 
 cravats. On either side are pine tables, a score or so, 
 arranged in parallel lines and furnished with inkstands, 
 while drawn up around them a regiment of decrepit chairs 
 provide seating accommodation. All these articles of 
 furniture are discoloured by time and ink stains, and bear 
 innumerable dates and names more or less artistically 
 carved by students' jack-knives. 
 
 We enter with a rush. Each of us resumes his indi- 
 viduality and seats himself where he can find a place, 
 regardless of all distinction of schools and lycees. The 
 ushers, nothing loath to avail themselves of the half-holiday 
 that the occasion gives them, vanish with celerity. The 
 door on the Place Gerson is closed. And now there shall 
 be wailing and gnashing of teeth among the belated ones, 
 if any such there be ! 
 
 As I was turning the corner of the first unoccupied 
 table that I met with, I came face to face with a young lad 
 very plainly dressed in the civilian costume of one of those 
 institutions which follow the curriculum of the lycees. 
 We look at each other blankly, then an exclamation of 
 astonishment bursts simultaneously from the lips of each : 
 
 "Besnard! " 
 
 " Mounerol ! " 
 
 It was my old friend Criquet, of Chatillon, whom I 
 en-countered so unexpectedly on the field of battle. He 
 had grown much taller in the last year, but had not parted 
 
EX AMI N A TIONS. 2 39 
 
 with the sun-browned complexion and those black almond- 
 shaped eyes that gave him the appearance of a little 
 Arab. 
 
 " What, you here ? I did n't so much as know you were 
 in Paris." 
 
 " I have been attending the Lauraguais school for the 
 last eight months on a free scholarship." 
 
 During the few seconds consumed in this rapid inter- 
 change of words the benches had all rilled up. Criquet 
 and I took our places at the last vacant table, within a step 
 or two of the door. 
 
 " I am awfully glad to see you ! " I said to him. 
 
 " So am I, too, you can just bet ! But it won't do to 
 stand here talking, the dictation is about to begin." 
 
 Dictionaries and writing materials had already been 
 taken from the nets and spread upon the tables. An 
 attendant, passing down the aisle, distributed to us blank 
 forms of goodly proportions, having a wide margin and a 
 printed heading. The latter read as follows : 
 
 UNIVERSITE DE FRANCE. 
 
 CONCOURS GENERAL. 
 CLASS IN 
 
 Mr. (State name in full.) 
 
 of the Lycee 
 
 born at , department of 
 
 the day of , 18 . 
 
 Beneath was a blank space over which the printed 
 matter was to be turned down after the student had filled 
 in the information desired, and a black line. This head- 
 ing, detached by the gentlemen at the desk, and by them 
 inscribed with a number corresponding with one which 
 
240 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 they have previously placed on the margin of the blank 
 form, is locked away in a box where, together with all the 
 others, it is kept until the day when the judges officially 
 report the results of the examination. 
 
 A professor, the dean of the faculty, rose to state the 
 subject on which we were to write. There was a shuffling 
 of feet and a tentative scratching of pens on paper, suc- 
 ceeded by a profound silence. Then the dean spoke in a 
 clear, sonorous voice : 
 
 " Horatii Flacci ad Tibullum epistola " was what he 
 said. 
 
 A low murmur rose, the contestants' various and 
 probably conflicting opinions on the merits of the subject. 
 Then the dictation went on : Tibullus, on his return from 
 the Gallic war, was congratulated by Horace. The poet 
 availed himself of his opportunity to recall the supposi- 
 titious exploits of his friend in the suite of General Vale- 
 rius Messala, and to give, in a few masterly strokes, a 
 history of the campaign. Then, returning homeward, he 
 glanced at Italy and the profound peace that had succeeded 
 the civil dissensions. He drew a glowing picture of Roman 
 civilization, an eulogy, however, whose fervour was some- 
 what chilled by satiric observations on the men and 
 measures of the time. Coming back, presently, to Ti- 
 bullus's personal affairs, he condoled with him for having, 
 like Virgil, been plundered by rapacious legionaries of a 
 portion of his wealth, but at the same time he commended 
 him for having sought in the pursuits of literature enjoy- 
 ments that no human power could take from him. Finally, 
 he recommended him henceforth to eschew the fatigues of 
 war, and, on his estate of Pedum, enjoy that golden medi- 
 ocrity which is the true atmosphere of happiness. 
 
 When the reading came to an end, there was again 
 
.DIVERSITY 
 
 EX AM IN A TIONS. 24 1 
 
 throughout the hall a breeze of emotion and diverse senti- 
 ments. But silence was restored almost immediately. 
 Every one had applied himself to work. 
 
 For my part, I laid my arm flat upon the table and 
 bowed my head upon it, and then bent all the powers of 
 my imagination on the subject that had been assigned 
 to us. I certainly was not like Petit-Jean in les Plaideurs, 
 and I could not have said : 
 
 " Ce que je sais le mieux, c*est mon commencement /" 
 
 What kind of exordium should I select ? An exordium 
 ex abrupt 'o, like Cicero's opening of his First against Cat- 
 iline ? It always takes, because with it one is certain to 
 capture the attention of the reader. But was it in accord 
 with the situation in the present case ? Manifestly, no. 
 Horace, in the calm repose of his study, takes his stylus to 
 indite, for his friend's benefit, an academic dissertation on 
 the questions of the day. In addition to the fact that he 
 is naturally the mildest and most moderate of men, he has 
 no motive for lashing himself into a fury. The exordium 
 ex abnipto would appear to be more particularly adapted 
 to the expression of anger, of indignation, real or simu- 
 lated. We must, therefore, try something else here. An 
 exordium by insinuation f That will not answer, either. 
 Insinuatingness will do very well for an orator who is not 
 sure of his audience, who desires to capture its good-will 
 or simply its ear, to prepossess or to seduce it. But a 
 poet, and such a poet ! writing to a man of taste and learn- 
 ing like Tibullus, may be supposed to disdain such petty 
 artifices. He knows that he will be read. The best 
 course to pursue, therefore, is to begin in a perfectly 
 simple and natural manner, setting forth the ideas in 
 proper sequence as they rise to the mind. 
 
242 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 That is one point settled. And now, what was the role 
 that Tibullus probably played in that war with the Gauls ? 
 A Roman knight, a man of epicurean tastes, and the close 
 friend of the commanding general, it is not likely that he 
 had much experience of the real toils of the campaign ; 
 he, doubtless, made it as a spectator rather than as a sol- 
 dier, and his name will not be found mentioned in the 
 orders of the day. But Horace is too discreet and too 
 well-bred to dwell on so delicate a point. He will, there- 
 fore, extend to Tibullus his twofold congratulations, on 
 having borne a part in great events and on being able to 
 relate them. At need, he will turn the shafts of his good- 
 natured irony against himself, reminding his correspondent 
 that his own military experience was not sufficiently g;lori- 
 ous to justify him in criticising the deeds of others. 
 
 In this manner I was reviewing my subject in all its 
 branches, endeavouring to saturate my mind with it and 
 grouping in memory the various details with which I pro- 
 posed to ornament it, when the clock of the Sorbonne, 
 striking eight with loud, metallic clang, suddenly reminded 
 me that I had not yet written a word. The scratching of 
 pens flying over the paper on every side warned me that 
 my comrades were already at their work. I seized mine, 
 and, dipping it in the inkstand, proceeded to develop my 
 theme. 
 
 The first lines came with difficulty. But, after a few 
 minutes, I became master of the situation ; I identified 
 myself with my hero, and my task ceased to be laborious. 
 Words came to me in serried battalions, my thoughts 
 flowed in lucid order. I gave myself up heart and soul 
 to my task. 
 
 For two hours I had been driving my pen continuously, 
 and was just entering on the concluding paragraph of my 
 
EXAMINA TIONS. 243 
 
 first rough draft, when a general movement throughout 
 the room caused me to raise my head. The gentlemen 
 at the desk had retired to an adjoining apartment, where 
 breakfast was awaiting them, and a universal clatter of 
 plates and bottles announced that the students were pre- 
 paring to follow the good example set them by their 
 superiors. There were some jaws, indeed, that had not 
 even waited thus long to set to work. 
 
 My appetite awoke by a sort of gregarious instinct, and 
 I remembered that I, too, had in my cupboard the where- 
 withal to effect an agreeable diversion to my mental 
 labours. Now, or never, was the moment to tear Criquet 
 from his labours. He had not once raised his nose from 
 the paper ; he wrote, wrote, wrote, as if his life depended 
 on it. 
 
 " You don't intend to keep this up until three o'clock ; 
 it will be too long for you to go," I said to him, in an 
 undertone. " Come, rest awhile ; we '11 make common 
 stock of our provision, and have breakfast." 
 
 Criquet looked at me, and laughed. 
 
 " I warn you that it will be a losing operation for you," 
 he said. " All I have is a crust of bread and a bit of 
 cheese. Dame ! they don't overfeed us at the Lauraguais 
 school ! " 
 
 " Good ! " I replied, " you need not let that worry you. 
 I have sausage sufficient for two, wine for four, and pate 
 for six. Get ready your mandibles ! " 
 
 I do not know that I ever enjoyed a breakfast more. 
 The excitement of the contest, the pleasure of meeting 
 an old comrade of Chatillon days, and one of those in 
 whom I was most interested, the novelty of the improvised 
 luncheon in a dark corner of the venerable edifice, all, 
 even to the necessity of carrying on a fragmentary con- 
 
244 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 versation in mysteriously low tones, contributed to make 
 me find a special enjoyment in the little fete. 
 
 The hall, at that moment, presented a strange spectacle. 
 The nets had all been emptied on the tables, and among 
 their contents were pates enough to stock several shops. 
 Some more luxurious ones they were most likely from 
 Condorcet had travelling panniers equipped with a 
 complete table - service, plates, knives, forks, drinking 
 glass, and napkin. On the other hand, immature Diogenes 
 were seen devouring suspicious-looking victuals that they 
 took with their fingers from paper bags. One original, 
 manifestly with an eye to effect, fried eggs on a tin plate 
 over a fire of paper. Some were reading over and cor- 
 recting their copy, while breakfasting. For the great 
 majority, however, this Rabelaisian interlude was evidently 
 the most important episode of the day. There were some 
 who vented their excess of animal spirits in an irregular 
 way, by bombarding with pellets of bread such faces as 
 did not please them. 
 
 Criquet was, evidently, much more preoccupied with 
 his Latin theme than with our breakfast, and, notwith- 
 standing his efforts to respond to my attentions, appeared 
 anxious to get back to his work. I soon saw that I should 
 be indiscreet in keeping him longer from his task. 
 
 " We can talk more comfortably when it is all over, 
 can't we ? " 
 
 " That is so ! ' ; he said, with a sigh of relief. " I will go 
 with you when we are dismissed, if you wish ; I have 
 permission to return alone." 
 
 This speech enlightened me as to the present situation 
 of my former friend and comrade. I knew that the priv- 
 ilege he spoke of, together with that of occupying a 
 separate chamber, in private institutions is generally 
 
EXAMINA TIONS. 24$ 
 
 granted only to pupils of conspicuous merit, and whose 
 chances of success at the concours are considered excep- 
 tionally good. 
 
 " So, he retains at Paris the superiority that he acquired 
 over us all at Chatillon ? " I said to myself. Then, seeing 
 that I was letting my laziness get the better of me : "'But 
 he is right, though, he takes the only road to success, 
 never to waste a minute ! " 
 
 And I set to work again. This time I never raised my 
 head until the very last second, when the attendant came 
 round to collect the papers. 
 
 Mounerol was re-reading his, perhaps for the fiftieth 
 time. He parted with it, regretfully, and only at the ex- 
 treme limit of time, when the judges, after five or six final 
 summonses, were making ready to retire. 
 
 " Well, are you satisfied ? " I asked him at the threshold. 
 
 " Faith, no. I never had a subject that pleased me less. 
 And you ? " 
 
 " With me it is exactly the reverse. I liked the subject. 
 But you are not to understand by that that I think my 
 essay will gain the prize ! " 
 
 According to promise, Criquet accompanied me to the 
 door of the Lycee Montaigne. It was during the transit 
 that I learned those particulars of his history that I was 
 ignorant of. 
 
 He had been admitted to the Lauraguais school on a 
 free scholarship, or, as he expressed it in his frank and 
 picturesque language, as a bete a concours. In return 
 for the gratuitous board and instruction that he received 
 there, he was expected to enhance the reputation of the 
 school by successes at the lycee and the Sorbonne. He 
 had therefore worked with all his might during the entire 
 year. 
 
246 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " It was our old principal at Chatillon, M. Ruette, who 
 procured me that favour. I am very grateful to him for 
 it, and to M. Lauraguais, too. But I can tell you, there 
 are moments when the obligation weighs on me terribly. 
 It seems to me that, unless I secure the prize, I shall have 
 been stealing the bread that I have been eating. And 
 who can count with any certainty on success at a general 
 examination ? " 
 
 " Bah ! you must not entertain such ideas. When one 
 has done his best he has nothing to reproach himself with. 
 If you gain no prizes at the concours, you will have plenty 
 at your lycee By the way, how is your grandfather ? 
 do you ever hear from him ? " I asked, desirous to change 
 .a subject that seemed painful to Mounerol. 
 
 " Regularly, every month. He is very well and perfectly 
 happy since he was enabled to open a little shop on the 
 Cours. I am trying awfully hard to fit myself for a 
 teacher, so I can have him with me." 
 
 " Ah ! then that is settled. You are going to be a 
 teacher?" 
 
 " I don't see anything better that I can do. But that 
 is also the opinion of M. Ruette and those who take an 
 interest in me." 
 
 While the brave fellow was telling me of his projects 
 for the future, I involuntarily recalled the image of little 
 Criquet, as he had appeared to Baudouin and me on the 
 occasion of our first discovering him in the garret, sur- 
 rounded by three hundred pairs of shoes that he had to 
 clean. 
 
 In the midst of my reflections we came to the Rue de 
 Chaillot. 
 
 " Will you come and dine with us on Sunday ? " I 
 asked Mounerol as we were about to part. " I can't 
 
EXAMINA TIONS. 247 
 
 tell you how pleased I and all my family will be to have 
 you." 
 
 I gave him our address at Billancourt. He promised 
 to be punctual, and only left me at the door of the lycee. 
 
 Baudouin was impatiently awaiting my arrival. 
 
 " Well, how about that Latin composition ? " he shouted, 
 as soon as he saw me enter the courtyard. "Are you satis- 
 fied with yourself ? " 
 
 By way of answer I gave him my rough draft, which 
 varied little from the corrected copy except toward the 
 end. He read it attentively, then came nearer to me. 
 
 " My little man, you have the prize of honour," he said 
 to me, in perfect seriousness. " Nobody, I don't care who 
 he is, can have written four pages of Latin superior to 
 that." 
 
 M. Pellerin, who came along presently, looking for 
 news, was also of opinion that my paper was good and that 
 there might be a chance for me. That was much the way 
 I looked at the matter myself, to be quite frank, and what 
 confirmed me in my opinion was that Dutheil, by univer- 
 sal consent, had never done so poorly. 
 
 " After all, why should n't I have it, that prize of hon- 
 our ?" I said to myself. 
 
 I dropped off to sleep sinking in imagination under my 
 load of crowns. And appended to my paper was this note, 
 which did not figure on my rough draft a performance 
 of utmost excellence ! 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 
 
 "/^ENTLEMEN," Dutheil said to us one day late in 
 VJ" July, " it is absolutely impossible to get another 
 sou into our bank. It is gorged with riches, abundat 
 divitiis, as Lhomond says. What shall we do start a 
 fresh one ? " 
 
 " No ! No ! " the whole class cried in chorus. " Smash 
 the jug, and close the account ! " 
 
 It may be as well to explain that the "jug" in question 
 was the receptacle of the cagnotte, a great earthenware 
 child's saving's-bank, in which the product of our fines, 
 transformed into pieces of one, two, and even five francs, 
 was deposited nightly by the methodical Dutheil. 
 
 There was also a cash-book, kept by Payan, in which all 
 payments to the fund were regularly inscribed and which 
 might serve to verify the account, if it should ever be con- 
 sidered necessary. No one had the remotest idea of the 
 total we might have reached. Certain persons had of late 
 evinced a disposition to proceed to the autopsy of the jug, 
 but it had always met with violent opposition, and, the 
 advice of the moderate party prevailing, the operation had 
 been deferred. For the first time the class was now unan- 
 imous on the affirmative side of the question. 
 
 " I demand that, before the safe is opened, Payan give 
 
CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 249 
 
 us the footing of his account," said Dutheil. " If his 
 total and my money agree, there will be no room for 
 suspicion." 
 
 This desire was too reasonable not to be complied with 
 at once. A long silence ensued, which was finally broken 
 by Payan, exclaiming : 
 
 "Six hundred and twenty-eight francs, forty centimes." 
 
 It was incredible ; the amount exceeded by at least a 
 third the most daring estimates. Think of the misde- 
 meanours represented by that sum, realized in less than 
 ten months in a class of between twenty and thirty 
 pupils ! 
 
 "We will now proceed to verify those figures," said 
 Dutheil, more agitated than he cared to let it appear. 
 
 To him, too, the amount seemed heavy. If there 
 should be a shortage if there should not be that much 
 money in the cagnotte ! 
 
 We drew lots to see who should strike the blow that 
 was to end the existence of the jug, which was placed on 
 the floor exactly in the middle of the class-room on a 
 great sheet of drawing-paper. Fortune smiled on Ver- 
 scharen, who smote, with a mighty blow, the plethoric 
 abdomen of the receptacle. It flew in fragments, and a 
 torrent of silver coins overflowed upon the ground. 
 These had to be examined, assorted, arranged in piles, 
 and counted. The work occupied two tellers for a full 
 half hour. 
 
 At length the task was finished. An imposing array 
 of two and five franc pieces, carefully assorted, gave the 
 preposterous total of six hundred and forty -three francs, 
 fifty centimes, fifteen francs and ten centimes more than 
 Payan's cash-book called for. 
 
 Dutheil was radiant and Payan dumfounded. 
 
250 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " That 's what comes of studying the higher mathe- 
 matics," observed Thomereau ; " one becomes incapable 
 of adding up a column of figures ! " 
 
 "Gentlemen," Payan declared, "there is something 
 abnormal here, and it must be looked into. It must be 
 that some anonymous philanthropist has been paying in 
 fines that he never incurred ! It is contrary to all prec- 
 edent. We might reasonably have expected that at 
 least ten per cent, of the contents of the jug would have 
 been found to consist of trouser buttons and Swiss silver ; 
 for the cagnotte to pay more than it received is simply 
 miraculous." 
 
 " Parbleu ! " exclaimed Baudouin, " Dutheil chipped in 
 a little something from time to time, fearing he might 
 be short." 
 
 " Let 's drop this useless inquiry," said Dutheil, blush- 
 ing violently, which would seem to indicate that Baudouin 
 had guessed aright, "and proceed to business. What 
 shall we do with all this money ? " 
 
 " First of all, exchange it for currency of a less 
 Lacedaemonian character," Verscharen suggested. 
 
 Agreed to unanimously. 
 
 " It might be distributed through the medium of a 
 lottery," hazarded Segol. 
 
 Rejected indignantly. 
 
 " How would it do to spend it for fireworks to be let 
 off in the street on the day of the distribution of 
 prizes ? " 
 
 Moderate enthusiasm. 
 
 " Build a great launch to hold thirty-one and take the 
 wind out of the sails of all the boat clubs of the Seine 
 and Marne ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 2$1 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " A great idea ! " 
 
 " It is idiotic ! " 
 
 " Down with the launch ! " 
 
 " Hurrah for the launch ! " 
 
 " What do you say to dividing the fund among our- 
 selves ? " 
 
 " Order, order ! it is contrary to the spirit of the 
 institution." 
 
 " Institute a prize of virtue for the usher who inflicts 
 the fewest punishments ! " 
 
 "Virtue is its own reward." 
 
 Here poor Chavasse succeeded at last in getting in a 
 word. "Gentlemen," he said, "it seems to me that it 
 has already been decided how the cagnotte is to be em- 
 ployed. It was agreed that it should be spent for a good 
 dinner ! " 
 
 This reminder of plighted faith was uttered in so 
 lugubrious a tone that our hearts were touched. 
 
 " Chavasse is right ! Chavasse is the boy ! 
 We '11 have a dinner that will astonish the natives ! " 
 
 " Spend six hundred and forty francs on a dinner for 
 thirty-one persons ! Why, it would be abominable," said 
 Baudouin, when the excitement had partially subsided. 
 
 " Bah ! that is only twenty francs a head and forty 
 francs for the waiters," Chavasse retorted, who had all his 
 figures at his fingers' ends. "That is not excessive, if 
 we dine at a first-class restaurant, and it would be 
 absurd to do otherwise." 
 
 "We can get just as good a spread at half the price 
 by going to a less pretentious establishment," said 
 Dutheil, " and when it is over there will be a snug little 
 sum left that we can apply to some charitable purpose." 
 
252 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 This sensible and praiseworthy proposal was well 
 received. 
 
 "That is right," Baudouin corroborated. "For ten 
 francs a head and by going a little way out of town, we 
 can get as good a dinner as any one could wish for, retain- 
 ing the whole restaurant into the bargain, and have just 
 as good a time as we would have in the most gorgeous 
 salon on the boulevard." 
 
 This was the determination that was finally arrived at, 
 in spite of Chavasse's mournful protests. He declared 
 that the arrangement was a deplorable travesty of his 
 conception ; that we should have a miserable, insufficient, 
 ill-cooked dinner, instead of the ambrosial banquet of his 
 dreams ; as well go to the steward and obtain permission 
 to dine in the refectory of the lycee, and so forth. 
 
 But his gloomy prognostics were unheeded ; it was as 
 much as ever that two or three chronic grumblers like 
 Segol, who had made themselves obnoxious by the pains 
 they had taken throughout the year to make their contri- 
 butions to the cagnotte as small as possible, supported him 
 in his reclamations. By way of consoling our titular Bril- 
 lat-Savarin he was assigned the duty, in concert with 
 Dutheil and Payan, our two commissaries, of framing the 
 menu of the banquet. 
 
 They were also commissioned to make inquiry among 
 our masters as to the worthiest use to make of one-half of 
 our treasure. I can't tell the satisfaction that we all de- 
 rived from the thought that to our enjoyment was to be 
 joined the succour of some afflicted one. It served as a 
 sort of offset to the secret repugnance that some of us 
 felt toward the idea of mere vulgar gormandizing. 
 
 From this time, the banquet became so constant a topic 
 of conversation in the playground that it gradually as- 
 
CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 253 
 
 sumed the proportions of a veritable event. The commis- 
 saries were close - mouthed regarding details, but had 
 evidently determined to surpass themselves. 
 
 It leaked out presently that they had made selection of 
 a celebrated restaurant at Saint-Germain. The proprietor 
 had promised to outdo all that his competitors could prom- 
 ise. Chavasse's spirits rose perceptibly, and he pledged 
 himself to astonish us with the menu. It transpired that 
 one of the principal dishes, or pihes de resistance, was to 
 be roast Rouen ducks. In the absence of further infor- 
 mation, we dwelt so fondly on this detail, that soon the 
 banquet came to be designated the duck dinner. 
 
 Molecule, of course, did not fail to take advantage of 
 this intelligence, and I was given to understand, under a 
 pledge of inviolable secrecy, that he was composing an 
 ode for the occasion, in honour of the ducks of Rouen. 
 A circumstance that distressed him greatly, was that he 
 was uncertain how to frame his rhymes, not knowing 
 whether the birds were to be served with olives or tur- 
 nips. I added to his perplexity by reminding him that 
 there was a third alternative, and that it was not unusual 
 to serve ducks with green peas. 
 
 In the meantime the days were gliding by, and on the 
 first Saturday in August, about five o'clock in the after- 
 noon, these culinary preoccupations gave way to others of 
 a more classic nature. 
 
 We were momently awaiting the results of the general 
 examinations, which the vice-rector of the Academic de 
 Paris, assisted by all the principals, was in process of 
 ascertaining in one of the chambers of the Sorbonne. 
 
 It is there that, after having been read and classified 
 by committees of eminent experts masters of confer- 
 ences at the Normal School, professors of the faculties, 
 
254 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 or of the College de France the successful exercises 
 are brought to be identified by means of the numbered 
 headings that have been carefully preserved in the sealed 
 boxes of which we told in a previous chapter. 
 
 The ceremony styled the opening of the boxes takes 
 place behind closed doors ; nevertheless, it never fails to 
 attract to the courtyard of the Sorbonne all the profes- 
 sors interested in the proceedings, together with a goodly 
 number of outsiders, drawn there either by the hope of 
 picking up some bit of information, or simply by that in- 
 stinct of curiosity which induces crowds to gather at the 
 foot of a wall behind which they have reason to think 
 something is going on. 
 
 It is seldom that these impatient ones are the wiser for 
 their zeal, but, on the other hand, false reports abound, 
 and not a quarter of an hour passes but a rumour, start- 
 ing from no one knows where, circulates through the 
 throng with telegraphic speed. 
 
 " Charlemagne has the first prize in mathematics ! " 
 
 " No, Condorcet has it ! " 
 
 "A scrub-woman listening at the keyhole heard it was 
 Montaigne ! " 
 
 And so it goes on for the space of two or three hours. 
 
 At last the principals are seen emerging from the door- 
 way. Occasionally one of them will kindly stop, and give 
 an honour man whom he perceives among the crowd the 
 happy tidings that concern him so deeply. For the most 
 part, however, they are mute as destiny, reserving the 
 longed-for information for their own lycee. 
 
 It is easy to imagine the feverish state in which those 
 of us who were considered to have chances spent the 
 last moments that lay between them and that solemn 
 hour. 
 
CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 2$$ 
 
 As for me, I had suddenly given way to a sensation of 
 profound discouragement, and no longer dared hope even 
 for an accessit. Viewed at a distance, the contest ap- 
 peared to me in the light of a gigantic lottery, where, 
 for one chance of winning, one stands a million chances 
 to lose. 
 
 At last the drum began to beat. 
 
 In a few moments all the divisions were formed in a 
 hollow square in the court of reviews. Surrounding us, 
 outside the square, were two or three hundred day schol- 
 ars, who had lingered after the dismissal of the afternoon 
 class in order to hear the bulletins read. The principal, 
 the proctor, and most of the professors, among whom I 
 noticed MM. Pellerin and Aveline, both evidently well 
 pleased, came and took their places in the centre of the 
 square. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said M. Montus, in the midst of a pro- 
 found silence, "the lycee has no reason to be other- 
 wise than proud of the results of the present year. Tztio 
 prizes of honour, seven first prizes, eleven second prizes, 
 and seventeen accessits, that is the share allotted to 
 us." 
 
 Here the speaker unfolded a paper that he held in his 
 hand. My heart beat as if it would burst my bosom, and 
 I breathed with difficulty. 
 
 " The prizes of honour," he continued, " went, one to 
 the class in higher mathematics, and the other to the 
 class in history - 
 
 The effect these words produced on me was that of a 
 shower-bath in wintry weather. Farewell, my coveted 
 prize in Latin composition, forever farewell ! 
 
 " The prize of honour in mathematics was awarded to 
 M. Payan," the principal went on. 
 
256 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The name had no more than passed his lips than our 
 chief's voice was drowned in a salvo of applause, but a 
 general cry of hush ! restored order in a trice. 
 
 " and M. Besnard carried off the great prize in his- 
 tory." 
 
 I could scarcely believe my ears, while, in the midst of 
 another round of applause, Baudouin, more delighted than 
 I, if such a thing were possible, took me in his arms and 
 hugged me as if his intention were to strangle me. 
 
 " In Latin composition," the principal resumed, " we 
 were less fortunate ; M. Dutheil took a first accessit ; but 
 it was a pupil of Charlemagne, M. Mounerol, who gained 
 the prize of honour in rhetoric, and a pupil of Saint-Louis, 
 M. Julineau, that in philosophy. The second prize in 
 French composition is ours, and it was M. Dutheil who 
 saved it for us ; a third accessit goes to M. Besnard, and 
 we have also the first prize in Latin versification, which 
 was captured by M. Segol. In Greek translation, M. 
 Besnard has a second accessit, and M. Dutheil a fourth. 
 M. Baudouin has a second accessit in Latin transla- 
 tion 
 
 And thus the reading of the list went on. When it 
 was completed, each division, accompanied by fresh ap- 
 plause, returned to its court, and there was dispensation 
 from all duties until supper-time. 
 
 I was beside myself with joy, and when M. Pellerin, 
 accompanied by M. Aveline, came to congratulate me, 
 I begged him to telegraph the glorious news to my 
 parents. 
 
 "What strange luck! "'I said to Baudouin, when our 
 comrades - had finally desisted from their hand-shaking ; 
 " I have the prize in history that I should have never 
 thought of counting on, and not so much as an accessit in 
 
BAUDOUIN TOOK ME IN HIS ARMS AND HUGGED- ME. 
 
CONTAINING MANY SURPRISES. 259 
 
 Latin composition, your flattering prognostics notwith- 
 standing 
 
 " Well, the accessit in Latin translation, awarded to 
 me, a sculptor ; don't you think that is more inexplicable 
 than your history prize ? I came to the examination by 
 the merest chance, as a substitute, and I capture an 
 accessit ! I should hardly have been more surprised if I 
 had taken the prize of honour ! " 
 
 " Ah, the prize of honour! I am glad that it went to 
 Mounerol ! Poor Criquet ! It will make his grandfather 
 very happy ! " 
 
 "Happy!" Baudouin exclaimed," "yes, if he had any 
 idea of what a prize of honour means. But how could he 
 have, good man, in his garret in far-away Chatillon ? He 
 should see his grandson in his glory, and that is impossi- 
 ble, for he lacks everything, from the price of a railway 
 ticket to a decent coat. And to think that to-morrow 
 we are going to spend more money in bestial gormandiz- 
 ing than would suffice to give him that pleasure! " 
 
 " That is a glorious idea," I cried. " Why should n't 
 we propose to our comrades to apply a portion of what is 
 left in the cagnotte to such a worthy purpose ? It is not 
 definitely settled yet what is to be done with it." 
 
 No sooner said than done. By dint of much shouting 
 and beckoning we bring the remainder of the division to 
 us and explain our idea. Mounerol, the recipient of the 
 prize of honour, is a lad of our province, educated as a 
 charity pupil at the lyce"e of Chatillon, and at the Laura- 
 guais school. Of all his family all that remains to him is 
 an old grandfather, a poor man, sinking under the weight 
 of years and infirmities, who is struggling on in direst 
 poverty. Would it not be a humane action to remit at 
 once to this good old man, a sum sufficient to enable him 
 
260 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 to come and witness the distribution of the prizes, and see 
 his grandson crowned ? Let each of us put himself in 
 Mounerol's place and reflect how disheartening it would 
 be in such a case to have not a single relative in the hall 
 to behold his triumph. Could we make a better use of 
 our surplus fund, or better affirm the solidarity that 
 should prevail among all the lycees ? 
 
 We were not allowed to finish. The entire division, 
 enthusiastically adopting Baudouin's generous idea, voted 
 the remittance to Pere Plaisir of a sum of three hundred 
 francs, in order that he might be present two days later 
 at the ceremonies in the Sorbonne. 
 
 Dutheil and I were commissioned to make the neces- 
 sary arrangements, and, as may be supposed, we did not 
 let the grass grow under our feet. Thanks to Anselme's 
 friendly cooperation, our letter for Chatillon went out by 
 that night's mail. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 
 
 OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. THE DUCK DINNER. 
 
 SIX o'clock was the hour appointed for our assemblage 
 at the Pavilion, but our impatience had so run ahead 
 of the time that it was barely four when Baudouin and I 
 reached Saint-Germain. 
 
 As it was, we regretted that we had not made an even 
 earlier start, for, as we emerged from the railway station, 
 we saw the tail-end of a long procession disappearing up 
 an adjacent street. At the same time the sound of mili- 
 tary music in the distance reached our ears. 
 
 A good-natured citizen obligingly informed us that a 
 great review of firemen had just taken place. 
 
 " And a fine display it was," he added, with unaffected 
 enthusiasm. " There were three thousand men in line ! 
 Just think once, the firemen of fifteen or twenty depart- 
 ments, all drawn up on the terrace ! It was for the great 
 decennial prize, you know." 
 
 Regretting to have missed the spectacle, but neverthe- 
 less determined not to give way to melancholy, we betook 
 ourselves to the great shaded alleys which make the edge 
 of the forest a veritable park. 
 
 The crowd was still considerable, especially in the 
 quarter where a hundred or so open-air booths had been 
 hastily run up for the festive occasion. There were two 
 long rows of little shops, Italian cafes, merry-go-rounds, 
 
262 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 theatres of marionettes, dioramas, tents of jugglers and 
 mountebanks, who announced their attractions in squeaking 
 voices to the accompaniment of discordant music. 
 
 Up and down the space between these traps to catch 
 the pennies of the multitude streamed a ceaseless tide of 
 Parisians in their Sunday best, and gawky countryfolks, 
 bands of children, and soldiers off duty. The whole scene 
 was bathed in the brilliant sunshine of August, clouds of 
 Stirling dust, and that damp, low-hanging steam that rises 
 from a crowd on a hot summer's day. 
 
 We had not been in this paradise of popular delight five 
 minutes when we caught sight of Verschuren and Thome- 
 reau. Like us, they were killing time while awaiting the 
 hour of dinner. 
 
 " Did you miss the review ? " cried Verschuren, as soon 
 as he saw us. " Guess who commanded the handsomest 
 company ! It 's no use, though ; you may as well give it 
 up. I '11 tell you : Captain Biradent, of Chatillon ! And 
 my stars, how the people applauded when they saw his 
 helmet of honour ! Tell Thomereau the story, Besnard ; 
 he will think I am romancing if I state that that helmet 
 was the reward for saving your humble servant's life." 
 
 At Verschuren' s request, I explained to Thomereau how 
 Captain Biradent had, in truth, saved all the inmates of our 
 dormitory from a terrible fire that broke out in it. 
 
 " But it should be said that Verschuren had not yet 
 1 shown any sign of the martial instincts that distinguish 
 him to-day, and had no. inclination to face fire," Baudouin 
 added, with a laugh. 
 
 Verschuren did not hesitate to admit that he had had a 
 good scare that night, and the four of us resumed our walk. 
 The influence of the jollity that we saw on every side, 
 joined to our own private resolve not to be victims of dull 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 263 
 
 care, was already producing an appreciable effect on us. 
 We were affected by a sort of contagious exaltation of the 
 spirits. We went hither and yon, this way and that, 
 yielding to an almost irresistible desire for movement and 
 noise. We stopped in one place to pull the string of a 
 Dutch top, in another to have a ride on the wooden 
 horses, as if we had been ten-year-old boys. We laughed 
 boisterously for no cause, and were possessed by an increas- 
 ing desire to yell and " raise Cain " generally. 
 
 One cannot be too careful to guard against such im- 
 pulses when he feels them germinating in him. We gave 
 them no heed, however, and it was with the most complete 
 insouciance that we stopped before the entrance of a sort 
 of itinerant circus, housed in a miserable old tent of striped 
 cotton canvas supported from space to space by great 
 stakes planted in the ground. 
 
 The entrance was surmounted by a scaffold, behind 
 which depended a great canvas screen on which were 
 depicted figures of wrestlers in classic costume. An ex- 
 hibition had apparently ended not long previously, for 
 grouped about the enclosure some spectators, not very 
 numerous, however, were still discussing the merits of the 
 show. 
 
 " I tell you that he did n't touch both shoulders." 
 
 " Good ! I say he did, for I saw the sawdust on his 
 shoulder-blades." 
 
 " Oh, for my part, don't you see, I take no stock in 
 those amateurs ; they are nothing but confederates who 
 play into one another's hand." 
 
 Our curiosity was whetted by these conversational frag- 
 ments, and we advanced to a position where we could read 
 a great poster that was suspended from one of the door- 
 posts : 
 
264 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 ARENA OF SAINT-CLOUD. 
 GRECO - ROMAN WRESTLING. 
 
 Revival of the Pyrrhic, Athletic, and Gymnastic 
 Sports of the Greeks and Romans, 
 under the Direction of M. Monin-Javot, 
 ex-champion of South America. 
 Open from 12 M. until 10 at Night. 
 ADMISSION, 10 CENTIMES. 
 
 We arrived in the nick of time. The proprietor of the 
 show was reciting in hoarse tones his monotonous and oft- 
 repeated chant : 
 
 " Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I, Monin-Javot, here present 
 and now addressing you, offer a reward of five hundred 
 thousand francs to any man who shall down me ! (Move- 
 ment of stupefaction in the audience?) F i v e hun- 
 dred thousand frrrancs ! in bills of the Bank of France, - 
 in gold, or in drafts at sight on M. le Baron de 
 Rothschild ! And happy shall I be, I assure you, to pay 
 that sacred debt, for I shall have learned that the blood of 
 old Gaul has not deteriorated. (M. Monin-Javot wipes 
 away a tear, and smites the painted curtain be hind him with 
 his sword of lath.) 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, who is there among you that is 
 not tempted to hazard the attempt ? You say to your- 
 selves, Five hundred thousand francs are a very pretty 
 sum ; I am going to try to earn them ; if I meet with a fall 
 it will be no disgrace, coming from Monin-Javot ; if I am 
 victorious my fortune is made. You wish to make the 
 attempt, then, and the ambition does honour to your 
 intelligence even more than to your courage. It is well, 
 gentlemen ; enter, inscribe your names on the lists ; the 
 books are always open ! But permit me to inform you 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 26$ 
 
 that, owing to the immense number of candidates, you 
 will be expected first to pass a preliminary test. (Move- 
 ment of attention in the audience?) 
 
 " I have about me, as you are aware, a phalanx of 
 invincible wrestlers whose fame cannot have failed to 
 reach your ears. Not one of these athletes and I say 
 it without fear of wounding their generous self-esteem 
 has ever succeeded in vanquishing me. Not one of them 
 approaches my force and skill. It will be admitted, there- 
 fore, that any contestant who is thrown by one of them is 
 unworthy to measure his prowess against mine. 
 
 " What remains for you to do, then, you who aspire to 
 win the prize of five hundred thousand francs ? Simply 
 to present yourselves in the arena and down successively 
 all my pupils ! When by doing that you shall have proved 
 that I can contend with you without wasting my own and 
 the public's time, the hour for the decisive contest will 
 have struck, and you will always find me ready ! (Loud 
 applause?] 
 
 " But in the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, I do not 
 wish that you should think I am imposing on you a fruit- 
 less task. No indeed ! Never shall it be said that an 
 amateur vanquished one of our athletes without deriving 
 a substantial advantage from his victory. For instance, 
 it is now time for Pollux, known as the Florentine Bronze, 
 and the Eel of the Charente-Inferieure, to appear in the 
 lists. Well ! whoever shall apply for leave to pit himself 
 against either of those champions shall be accorded the 
 honour ! And whoever succeeds in throwing his adversary 
 shall be entitled to receive the sum of twenty-five francs, 
 in current coin of the realm, with discount or deduction of 
 any kind ! (Emphasizes his speech by repeated blows on 
 the curtain with his sword of lath?) 
 
266 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "And to participate in these inestimable advantages 
 and witness these heroic contests, what, ladies and gentle- 
 men, is the admission fee that we ask from your gener- 
 osity ? Almost nothing, scarcely enough to cover our 
 expense for rent, an obolus, a wretched trifle ! It is not 
 ten francs, as at Opera ; it is not six francs, as at the 
 Comedie Franchise ; it is not one franc ; it is not even 
 ten sous ! but only the miserable pittance of ten cen- 
 times, two sous ! Two sous to see the Florentine Bronze 
 in conflict with the Eel of the Charente-Inferieure ! Two 
 sous to see the amateurs enter the lists ! Two sous to 
 witness our splendid revival of the old Grecian and Roman 
 games ! Two sous to win five and twenty francs ! Two 
 sous to earn five hundred thousand francs ! Think of it ! 
 Walk in, ladies and gentlemen ! Band, strike up ! " 
 
 In obedience to the command, a drum and trombone, 
 stationed on the scaffold, broke out in a horrible andante. 
 At the same time the two flaps of coarse canvas that 
 closed the entrance of the tent were drawn aside, and 
 about thirty men and boys, seduced by M. Monin-Javot's 
 flowery eloquence, pushed their way in. As we still had 
 an hour and more on our hands before the time set for 
 the dinner, we followed their example. 
 
 The arena was certainly not pretentious : it consisted 
 of a circular space in the tent, railed off by a primitive 
 arrangement of stakes and ropes. This enclosure was 
 strewn with a thick layer of sawdust. Outside the ropes 
 was a sort of gangway reserved for the spectators, who 
 had at their backs the canvas walls of the structure. 
 
 After the band had played for a quarter of an hour the 
 spectators, notwithstanding M. Monin-Javot's reiterated 
 and stirring appeals, did not number more than forty, 
 including our party. 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 26? 
 
 The drum and trombone at last desisted from their 
 cacophony, and after a wait of about ten minutes the two 
 contestants, equipped in the traditional costume of pink 
 fleshings and spangled velvet trunks, presented themselves 
 in the arena. It was they, it was the Eel of the Charente- 
 Inferieure and the Florentine Bronze ! 
 
 It would seem that they had other names as well, for 
 they had no more than shown their faces than a fat man, 
 in a buff nankin waistcoat, who was standing near us, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah, upon my word, that is giving it to us a little too 
 strong ! " 
 
 " He means the coffee, I suppose," observed Thomereau. 
 
 " What 's that you say, sir ? " 
 
 " Never mind." 
 
 "Well, I say again, it is cutting it too thick. Those 
 are the very same men who were introduced to us a little 
 while ago as Aubry the Lion and Jacques the invincible 
 wrestler ! I recognize them perfectly ; the little chap has 
 not even changed his costume. As for the other, he has 
 taken the pains to blacken his face and hands with soot, 
 and that 's all." 
 
 At this juncture M. Monin-Javot announced that the 
 performance was about to begin. He had at last regret- 
 fully decided to close the flaps that served as a doorway, 
 and was now patrolling the outer circumference of the 
 ring, aiming a blow, whenever he had a chance, at the 
 heads of the small boys who had crept under the canvas 
 in the hope of seeing without paying. 
 
 " Pollux and the Eel will now contend together," he 
 proclaimed, "and if, after the courteous contest, one of 
 the spectators should feel disposed to try conclusions 
 with the victor, the ring will be open to him." 
 
268 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 The two athletes began by exchanging the customary 
 salutes and hand-shakes. An engaging smile that never 
 left their lips was meant to show the loyalty and good 
 faith with which they entered on the conflict. They 
 stooped simultaneously, gathered a handful of dust with 
 which they rubbed the palms of their hands, and faced 
 each other in the most sculpturesque attitude they could 
 think of. At last they clinched, seizing each other 
 around the body, and began to wrestle. 
 
 It seemed to us, whether we were right or not, that 
 they were favouring each other, and infused only a very 
 moderate degree of spirit into their "work." Baudouin, 
 who was deeply interested in the scene, was indignant at 
 such faint-heartedness. 
 
 " More steam ! " he said in an undertone, when the 
 adversaries approached us in the course of their evolutions. 
 " Get down to work, now ! One would suppose you were 
 afraid of damaging your beauty." 
 
 The Eel and the Florentine Bronze kept on seizing each 
 other by the arms, the neck, the waist, swaying, strug- 
 gling, stooping, rising, going through all the motions of 
 a genuine conflict, but without serious results. Two or 
 three times they rolled over and over together on the 
 ground, but nothing came of it. They rose quickly and 
 resumed their hold. 
 
 Finally, after five or six bouts, the Eel was suddenly 
 lifted bodily from off the ground by his opponent, who laid 
 him flat on his back and by a supreme effort pressed both 
 his shoulders down into the sawdust.'* 1 "^- 
 
 Pollux was the victor. He gallantly tendered his hand 
 to the vanquished, and bowed to the spectators. 
 
 There was applause from some quarters. But Baudouin 
 was not satisfied. 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED, 269 
 
 " It is nothing but a farce ! " he injudiciously exclaimed, 
 in quite a loud voice. " The Eel could have saved him- 
 self if he had tried. The fellows are accomplices." 
 
 M. Monin-Javot, who chanced just then to be standing 
 a few steps from us, divined rather than heard these 
 words. At any rate he saw his opportunity. 
 
 " Perhaps mossie'u would like to try his strength against 
 Pollux ? '' he said, approaching us, with a tantalizing air. 
 " He would then be assured that the contest is conducted 
 honestly, and that we have nothing to fear from any 
 rivals." 
 
 Baudouin's face became very red, but he spoke no 
 word. It was clear that he was not particularly averse to 
 accepting the challenge, but repugnance to making a spec- 
 tacle of himself restrained him. 
 
 M. Monin-Javot surveyed him with an ironic eye. 
 
 " Mossieu is probably afraid of getting a fall ? " he 
 continued. " That is precisely what would happen in all 
 likelihood, and I see by the look of Pollux's eye that he 
 would not hesitate to tackle two or three adversaries like 
 mvssteu." 
 
 Baudouin's face was getting redder and redder. As for 
 us, we were beginning to think that the honour of the 
 lycee was in a ticklish position. Students in rhetoric are 
 not old men, you know. 
 
 " Why should n't you try it ? " I said to Baudouin ; " you 
 are stronger than that Aztec ! " 
 
 I had committed an imprudence. Baudouin looked at 
 me with the air of one who only wants a backer to engage 
 in any folly. 
 
 Monin-Javot looked at me also. He had overheard. 
 
 "That remains to be seen, young man," said the 
 tempter. 
 
2/0 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Shall I have to put on tights ? " Baudouin suddenly 
 asked. 
 
 " No, mossieu. You may come on in your trousers, and 
 you may even keep on your socks if you feel inclined." 
 
 This inducement appeared to settle the question with 
 Baudouin. With a rapid movement he threw aside his 
 kepi, removed his tunic, stripped off his shirt, kicked off 
 his shoes, and jumped into the ring, naked to the belt. 
 
 He was greeted with a round of applause. 
 
 " Good ! another confederate ! " said our neighbour, the 
 man in the nankin waistcoat. 
 
 "A confederate ! " I hotly rejoined. " Do you mean to 
 say that Baudouin is a confederate ! " 
 
 The man's observation had sufficed to show me the 
 injudiciousness of Baudouin's action, and I began to repent 
 of the encouragement that I had afforded him. A glance 
 at our champion would have quickly obliterated this im- 
 pression, however. He made a handsome picture, did our 
 champion, with his small Roman head poised on a columnar 
 neck, his nostrils dilated and eyes flashing with the joy of 
 conflict, his well-developed chest and sinewy arms ! No 
 one would have supposed he was a boy scarce eighteen 
 years old ; such were the elegant proportions of his person 
 that every one took him for a man of twenty-two or twenty- 
 three. 
 
 Pollux's looks seemed to say, 
 
 What is this ? 
 
 " ' Ce bloc enfarint ne me dit rien qui vat lie / ' " 
 
 The usual preliminary salaams were exchanged. Bau- 
 douin, a past master in all pertaining to gymnastics, per- 
 formed them as if he had been practising them all his life. 
 At last they took their positions. 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. . 2/1 
 
 The two combatants seized each other round the body. 
 I could not help shuddering as I saw the Florentine 
 Bronze's long black arms twine themselves like serpents 
 about Baudouin's waist. But he showed no sign of flinch- 
 ing. He made no demonstration, but balanced himself 
 lightly for a moment as if to give his adversary an oppor- 
 tunity to perfect his hold, then quickly bending to the 
 left and raising his arms, he twisted the negro's head 
 round under his right armpit and held it there as in a vice. 
 Pollux turned and writhed in a desperate effort to release 
 himself. All was in vain. Baudouin turned as he turned, 
 showing successfully to the circle of spectators the black 
 face grinning and grimacing behind his back. 
 
 The black then adopted the expedient of loosing his 
 hold and falling. Baudouin, without relaxing his grasp, 
 accompanied him to the arena. 
 
 They rolled over and over on the ground, neither able to 
 secure the mastery, and after a dozen ineffectual attempts 
 rose to their feet. Every one applauded. There was a 
 pause lasting from two to three minutes. 
 
 It was again Pollux who took the initiative in the second 
 round. He attempted to take Baudouin by the shoulders 
 and force him down by main strength, then to grasp him 
 beneath the arms and swing him on his hip, then by a 
 feint to seize him by the waist and send him to the earth 
 head foremost. Each time his opponent clung to him so 
 tightly that the effort was a failure. 
 
 There was another pause, punctuated by applause. 
 Pollux was breathing hard, and beginning to show ill 
 temper. He seemed fairly to grind his teeth as he 
 advanced on Baudouin for the third round. 
 
 The manoeuvre he attempted this time was a very 
 hazardous one : he rushed on his adversary head down, 
 
2/2 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 with the object of seizing him by the legs and landing 
 him on his back, heels in air, before he was aware of what 
 was going on. 
 
 But Baudouin, swift as thought, was ready with the 
 riposte. He coiled his arms around the darky's neck, 
 tripped him, raised him off the ground, and, whirling him 
 in air as if he had been a sack of meal, landed him plump 
 on his two shoulders. 
 
 Pollux was " downed ; " the fact was incontestible. 
 
 A storm of acclamations greeted our friend's victory, 
 while he was returning to us -with a rather sheepish face 
 and Pollux was picking himself up in confusion. 
 
 Baudouin's skin was stained here and there with spots of 
 black, as if the sham negro's pigment had rubbed off on him. 
 
 " I am a big fool ! " he said, as he reached us and began 
 to throw on his clothes. 
 
 We were preparing to leave, together with the other 
 spectators, for the show seemed to be over, when, suddenly, 
 the voice of the man in the nankin waistcoat made itself 
 heard again. 
 
 " Well, that prize of twenty-five francs ! have we heard 
 the last of it ? " 
 
 " Yes, the twenty-five francs ! where are the twenty-five 
 francs promised to the victor ?" echoed, in muffled tones 
 at first and then with increasing vigour, some of those 
 around him. 
 
 In an instant a storm was raging. The assemblage 
 yelled in chorus, to the tune of les Lampions, "The 
 twenty-five francs ! The twenty-five francs ! " 
 
 M. Monin-Javot came forward, pale, but suave as ever, 
 a smile upon his lips. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, with a fine air of misprized loy- 
 alty, " permit me to inform the honest individuals, whose 
 
POLLUX WAS 'DOWNED;' THE FACT WAS INCONTESTABLE. 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 2/5 
 
 voices I hear raised in remonstrance, that they are inter- 
 fering in a matter that should be confined to mossieu 
 (designating Baudouin) and me. I am ready to pay mos- 
 sieu the reward to which he is entitled, but I am too 
 conscious of what I owe to myself, and of what I owe -to 
 the distinguished amateur who has just afforded one of 
 our troupe the honour of trying his strength with him, to 
 discuss in public a question of pecuniary interest. No, 
 gentlemen ; that is not my way of doing business." 
 
 "The twenty-five francs!" bawled one of the specta- 
 tors, unmoved by these considerations of refined courtesy. 
 41 Pay the twenty-five francs you promised ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen," M. Monin-Javot replied, with inexhaust- 
 ible patience, " all the money at my disposal at the present 
 moment is in pieces of five and ten centimes. You would 
 not wish me to force mossieu to receive payment in cop- 
 pers ? Vigorous as he is, he would scarcely be able to 
 carry away such a burden." 
 
 This argument appeared to produce a certain effect. 
 
 " He is right," said some of the more moderate ones. 
 
 But he of the nankin waistcoat was merciless. 
 
 " It is a matter that can be easily arranged," he said. 
 " I will undertake to furnish gold, right here and now, for 
 all those coppers. I am in need of small change, anyway, 
 in my butcher business." 
 
 The audience returned to its original impression. 
 
 " That settles the matter, then. Let the twenty-five 
 francs be paid ! " 
 
 Here Baudouin felt it his duty to interfere. 
 
 "Faith," he said, "since you force me to it, I must 
 confess that it was not the desire of gaining the money 
 that induced me to enter the ring, and I am perfectly 
 willing to abandon all claim to it." 
 
2/6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "Ah, ha! " sneered the man of the waistcoat, "didn't 
 I tell you the business was a fraud ? " 
 
 M. Monin-Javot, who was mopping his forehead with a 
 dirty handkerchief, gave a great bound at this application 
 of the spur. 
 
 " Bring hither the treasure chest ! " he said, with a 
 majestic air. 
 
 The Eel and the Florentine Bronze, with slow and 
 reluctant steps, brought to the centre of the ring a 
 large black box, having a small slot in its lid. The poor 
 devils' looks of distress would have softened the hardest 
 heart, and the least imaginative could have divined that 
 they were solemnizing the obsequies of their hopes of 
 dinner. 
 
 In the meantime, M. Monin-Javot had opened the box 
 and was extracting in great handfuls the day's receipts. 
 The sous, when arranged in order on the lid and counted, 
 were found to reach the sum of twenty-five francs. The 
 overplus did not exceed sixty centimes, however. 
 
 " No, I really cannot take that money ! " said Baudouin, 
 stoutly, but, nevertheless, intimidated by the severe eye 
 of the man of the waistcoat. 
 
 At this moment, there was a sudden commotion in the 
 group surrounding us, which parted and made way for an 
 officer resplendent in full uniform, sword at side, helmet 
 on head, epaulettes of bullion on the shoulders. 
 
 "Captain Biradent ! " I shouted, joyfully. 
 
 " Captain Biradent ! " Baudouin and Verschuren repeated 
 after me. 
 
 " Yes, Captain Biradent ; and just in time to prevent 
 you from completing a foolish action ! " he growled, 
 between his teeth, with that rough frankness and southern 
 accent which were so familiar to us. 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 2// 
 
 "Who is there here that dares to speak of fraud in 
 connection with a young man who wears the uniform ? " 
 he roared. " The first man who ventures to repeat that 
 insinuation shall answer for it to me ! " 
 
 No one breathed a word. The man of the waistcoat 
 made an abortive attempt to hide behind two thin specta- 
 tors. 
 
 " I thank you, monsieur, but keep your money." Bau- 
 douin rapidly said, happy to escape from the menaced 
 payment. 
 
 "That is well," said the captain. "And now by the 
 right flank 'arch !" 
 
 Mechanically obeying the command once so familiar in 
 our ears, we hurried from the tent. 
 
 The captain did not appear to be over well pleased with 
 us. 
 
 " How is this," he said, when we had left the booth a 
 little way behind us. " How comes it that I find young 
 gentlemen of birth and education, who have their degrees, 
 wrestling in public with vulgar harlequins ? Gentlemen, 
 I am ashamed of you ! " 
 
 " Come, come, captain," Baudouin replied, with his 
 frank and merry laugh, " you must not be too hard on 
 us. It is partly your fault, confound it ! If you had not 
 given us such good muscles in the gymnasium at Chatil- 
 lon, we should never have thought of exercising them 
 here." 
 
 The implied compliment went direct to the heart of the 
 worthy man. 
 
 "There is some truth in that, there is some truth in 
 that," he said, with a smile. " But try next time to make 
 a better selection of your adversary. And what are you 
 doing at Saint-Germain, if I am not too inquisitive ? " 
 
2/8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 "We are here for a class dinner, which, by the way, 
 will deprive us of the pleasure of being with you as long 
 as we should like, for I hear the clock striking six." 
 
 We all directed our steps toward the Pavilion. On the 
 way the captain informed me that he was in Paris for a 
 week's stay ; I availed myself of the opportunity to ask 
 him to come and dine with my mother on the following 
 day, which he promised he would do. My father, in cele- 
 bration of my honours, had already invited M. Pellerin, 
 M. Aveline, and M. Desbans. 
 
 " Come along, there ; we are waiting for you ! " was 
 the salutation we received from a score of our comrades 
 whose joyous faces filled the windows of the restaurant. 
 We gave the captain's hand a parting clasp. He, too, had 
 a dinner of his corps to attend that evening, and could not 
 have kept us company. 
 
 We darted up the staircase. 
 
 The scene of the festivities was a large room on the 
 first floor, which we had no difficulty in finding without 
 other guide than the uproar that already prevailed there. 
 Boisterous objurgations greeted our entrance. 
 
 " Here come the laggards ! Why did n't you keep us 
 waiting a little longer ? Come, let 's sit down ! " 
 
 There was a momentary confusion, a crash of chairs, 
 and a clatter of plates. Then we found ourselves seated 
 in compact order, elbows touching, the entire thirty-one 
 of us, around a long, wide table. I was seated between 
 Baudouin and Verschuren, and opposite me was the 
 shining face of Chavasse, of whom I had occasional 
 glimpses through the mountains of fruit and flowers, the 
 pyramids of nougat, and the various other structures of 
 culinary architecture with which the table was loaded. 
 Two or three glasses were arrayed beside each plate, a 
 
OLYMPIC GAMES REVIVED. 2/9 
 
 menu on heavy glazed paper was laid over the knife and 
 fork, and the resolute faces that surrounded the handsome 
 display testified sufficiently to the ardour with which we 
 were prepared to enter on our labours. 
 
 The dinner was good, notwithstanding the fearful and 
 wonderful names with which the chef, aided and abetted 
 by our committee men, had considered it necessary to 
 disguise his dishes. 
 
 The repast was much more quiet than might have been 
 expected from the earlier portion of our afternoon. In 
 the first place, we were all provided with an appetite 
 which checked any disposition to engage in wordy warfare 
 when there was so much better employment for our 
 masticatory apparatus. Next, we had contracted at the 
 lycee the excellent habit of behaving like gentlemen. at 
 table. Finally, finding ourselves arrayed around the board 
 at a sort of public banquet, and subjected to the scrutiny 
 of the numerous attendants, we felt that the good name 
 of our college was in our charge and that it behooved us 
 not to disgrace our uniform. 
 
 It was as much as ever if Thomereau ventured on two 
 or three pleasantries of a doubtful character, which were 
 at once nipped in the bud by the freezing coldness with 
 which they were received, or if the conversation rose 
 above its normal diapason when the famous ducks of 
 Rouen made their appearance on a bed of academic 
 laurels, a circumstance that had failed to enter into 
 Molecule's calculations. At dessert, however, when the 
 golden champagne was mantling in the glasses, he was 
 allowed to read his little poem, which we applauded in 
 recognition of his good intention. 
 
 The evening would have been uneventful if the unfortu- 
 nate Chavasse, after partaking twice of every dish, and 
 
280 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 literally stuffing himself with indigestible pastry, had not 
 crowned his exploits by insisting on smoking the biggest 
 and blackest cigar that the establishment could produce. 
 
 This imprudence resulted in consequences on which the 
 reader will pardon me if I draw the curtain, and which 
 obliged our unhappy comrade, after a silent but decisive 
 conflict, to beat a precipitate retreat to the cool, calm 
 regions of the terrace. 
 
 By ten o'clock all was over, and we took the train to 
 return to Paris, 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 AUNT AUBERT'S IRE. 
 
 IT was past eleven o'clock when Baudouin and I reached 
 Billancourt, and I was surprised to see a light still 
 shining from the windows of the drawing-room. Had 
 mamma been sitting up for us ? The thought distressed 
 me. She to whom rest and tranquillity were such absolute 
 necessities. 
 
 She was not the only one who received us with a little 
 cry of joy on recognizing our footsteps on the stoop : 
 Aunt Aubert, my father, and grandpa, were also watching. 
 No one had cared to go to bed without knowing that we 
 were home. 
 
 Nothing would do but we must relate our adventures ; 
 it needs not to say that one of the episodes of our after- 
 noon was treated very gingerly. Not a word was lisped 
 of Baudouin's victory in the Monin-Javot arena. The 
 meeting with Captain Biradent and the duck dinner formed 
 the staple of our narrative. 
 
 We had just concluded it when a loud ring at the bell 
 of the front door caused us all to start. 
 
 Who could it be at such an hour ? 
 
 I ran to the window, and, to my extreme surprise, rec- 
 ognized M. Pellerin. I bounded down the stairs, taking 
 four at a leap, to receive him at the threshold. 
 
282 SCHO OLE OY DAYS IN FRA NCE. 
 
 "Ah, Albert, is that you?" he said. "Observing that 
 you had not gone to bed, I thought there would be no 
 harm in stopping and ringing at your bell." 
 
 From the moment I set eyes on him I had been struck 
 by my dear master's grave, almost solemn appearance. 
 This impression was enhanced when, after the usual salu- 
 tations and additional excuses for so untimely a visit, he 
 seated himself. An inexpressible air of constraint and 
 gloom apparent in his manner and on his countenance 
 told us that so unusual a proceeding was not without a 
 motive, and that that motive could not be good news. We 
 awaited developments with an anxious curiosity that we 
 found it difficult to hold in check. 
 
 At last M. Pellerin seemed to nerve himself to speak. 
 
 " I have a communication of an entirely commercial 
 nature to make to you," he said to my father ; "will it not 
 be better to spare the ladies' ears ? " 
 
 " For weal, for woe," replied my father, " we have every- 
 thing here in common. Speak, M. Pellerin, as if you had 
 but a single listener." 
 
 M. Pellerin bowed slightly. 
 
 " Do you still continue to have business relations with 
 Lecachey's firm ? " he asked, in an agitated voice. 
 
 " Certainly," replied my father, more and more sur- 
 prised, and with sudden alarm. " They are our bankers 
 and have charge of our financial matters. All our fortune, 
 ready money and securities, is in their hands." 
 
 " Ah ! it is as I had feared," M. Pellerin replied, more 
 dejectedly even than before, "and that is why I came 
 without an instant's delay to apprize you of what is going 
 on. You are possibly aware that to-morrow I am to 
 deliver the customary Latin address at the ceremony of 
 awarding the prizes of the general examinations. I was 
 
AUNT AUBERT^S IRE. 283 
 
 tendered a dinner by some friends this evening in celebra- 
 tion of that honour, and after the repast we dropped in at 
 one of the principal cafes of the Boulevard des Italiens. 
 It seems that the place is a sort of exchange, and business 
 men were there in numbers. We were not long in per- 
 ceiving that an important bit of news was in circulation 
 through the room ; so great was the interest that it 
 appeared to excite among many of the gentlemen, that 
 we heard it repeated several times from one table to 
 another 
 
 " And what was the nature of that news ? " asked my 
 father, who had suddenly become deathly pale. 
 
 " That Lecachey's bank must inevitably close its doors 
 to-morrow morning. Young Lecachey, that horrible little 
 ne'er-do-well that you know of, disappeared last Saturday, 
 having first made fraudulent use of the firm signature to 
 withdraw several millions two or three millions, it is 
 reported of bonds and securities deposited with the 
 Bank of France to the credit of the concern." 
 
 " Two or three millions ! " exclaimed my father. " If 
 that is true, it means certain ruin ! " 
 
 " I am afraid there is not much room for doubt. Full 
 details were given, with figures. The Lecachey bank, so 
 everybody said, has for a long time been anything but 
 safe. There was talk of heavy losses on the Bourse, of 
 extravagant and unjustifiable expenses. I immediately 
 thought of you, and hoped that if warned at once you 
 might do something to protect yourself. In any event, I 
 thought it my duty to put you in possession of the facts 
 without loss of a minute's time." 
 
 My father, in an attitude of deep discouragement, his 
 eye lost in space, shook his head mournfully, while my 
 mother, Aunt Aubert, and grandpa, standing around him 
 
284 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 in funereal silence, hung on his lips, and waited to hear 
 him pronounce the verdict. 
 
 " It means bankruptcy ! " he said at last, in broken 
 accents, as if the hateful word were strangling him. " Or 
 if not that, then utter ruin for us all. All the proceeds of 
 last year's sales, all my bills receivable were in Lecachey's 
 hands. And that at the end of my first year's business, 
 when I had sown and had not had time to reap. All will 
 have to go to pay off the liabilities - 
 
 "But you talk as if Lecachey had already suspended," 
 said mamma. " How do you know, my friend, that he 
 will not weather the storm, that an arrangement will not 
 be effected ? " 
 
 " I know it, everything tells me so ! " my father vehe- 
 mently replied. " Other houses might stand such a loss ; 
 Lecachey cannot. I reproach myself for having done 
 nothing to avert the consequences of such a catastrophe, 
 for I have felt, and on more than one occasion, that it 
 was liable to happen. The memory of kindnesses ex- 
 tended to me by Lecachey when I was starting in the 
 business made it hard for me to reciprocate the trust he 
 put in me with suspicion. Two or three millions are a 
 large figure for a house whose stability is already dis- 
 trusted. And if they have allowed the report to gain 
 currency, or rather, as there is little room to doubt, they 
 themselves have helped to circulate it, it is because 
 they can see no possible remedy, and their decision is 
 arrived at." 
 
 All those things my father said coldly and in tones 
 bordering on moroseness. But that coldness and that 
 moroseness caused us less anxiety than the state of 
 mute prostration in which we had observed him to be 
 sunk for the last few minutes. It is my belief that my 
 
AUNT AUBERT'S IRE. 285 
 
 mother excited and pestered him purposely with her con- 
 tradictions, solely that she might not see him overcome 
 again by that dejection. 
 
 " Even though you should sustain a great loss," she 
 said, " surely it cannot amount to utter ruin. You own 
 the factory and the machinery, your credit is unimpaired, 
 and you have advantageous contracts with the best 
 raisers - 
 
 " Yes, oh yes, I have all those things ! " my father 
 bitterly replied. "That is the way you women look at 
 such matters ! You know, though, do you not, my dear, 
 that we are doing business on the proceeds of the loan 
 hypothecated on our real estate, and which amounts to 
 three hundred and eighty thousand francs ? We have 
 with Lecachey, in the shape of deposits and time loans, 
 six hundred thousand francs. If that sum is lost to us 
 and, unfortunately, there seems to be but little doubt 
 that such is the case a suit in foreclosure is inevitable, 
 for I shall be unable to continue the business and, conse- 
 quently, shall not be able to pay the interest on the loan. 
 My equity in the mortgaged property does not exceed 
 one-third of its value, hence you can see that a fore- 
 closure under such circumstances is equivalent to absolute 
 ruin, neither more nor less. I believe, I trust, however, 
 providing the disaster has no further consequences, that I 
 shall be able to meet my engagements. But there is no 
 use attempting to conceal the fact, that is the very best 
 that I can hope for, and in all probability we shall be left 
 without resources. You see, my dear, that I do not try 
 to delude you with false hopes." 
 
 I had approached my father, and, taking his hand in 
 mine, endeavoured to cheer him with warm expressions 
 of affection. 
 
286 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " My dear son," he said, touching my forehead with his 
 lips, "it is not for my own sake that I regret our fondly 
 cherished dream, it is for yours, for whom I had hoped to 
 smooth the road that you are about to find so rough ! " 
 
 " Oh ! as for me, father, you need not be troubled in 
 the least ! " I cried. " There is no difficulty from which a 
 man cannot extricate himself by patient labour, and I 
 shall be so happy to work for you, for mamma, for all of 
 you ! What is the difference, after all ! Instead of 
 studying law, an expensive profession to master, and slow 
 in its results, I will adopt a more modest calling that will 
 yield quick returns." 
 
 " And such a calling is open to you," said M. Pellerin. 
 "Why should not Albert enter the Normal School? 
 With his prize in history and his two accessits, it will be 
 a matter easy of accomplishment. You are aware that all 
 the scholars there are pensioners of the State. Albert 
 can spend three years there under the best instructors in 
 Paris, receive his diploma, and at once obtain a professor- 
 ship in a lycee. Teaching is a career of great promise, 
 and which cannot fail to be attractive, even from a 
 material point of view. France is in need of competent 
 teachers, and will find before long that she must pay 
 them in other coin than consideration. And if my young 
 friend here feels no inclination for the professorial career, 
 there are other reputable callings whose doors will be 
 opened to him by the training he will receive in the Rue 
 d'Ulm. Literature, the higher journalism, posts in the 
 public service, private positions of trust, are all, at all 
 times, ready and anxious to give employment to graduates 
 of the Normal School." 
 
 In moments of despair the troubled and vacillating 
 mind grasps at anything that affords ground for hope. It 
 
AUNT AUBERT'S IRE. 287 
 
 was evident, from the interest awakened in my father by 
 this discussion, that it had been beneficial to him, if in 
 nothing else than by diverting his thoughts from the 
 painful anxieties that were torturing him. 
 
 Baudouin, who had preserved silence until now, here 
 offered a suggestion : 
 
 "In case none of those projects should prove agreeable 
 to Albert," he said, " I have another to propose to him 
 indeed, I may say that I have two. The first is to embark 
 with me for Australia or South America, where we will 
 make our fortune as so many others have done before 
 us 
 
 At this point M. Pellerin frowned, significantly. 
 
 " The second is to lead the life of a trapper right here 
 in Paris, living like a hermit, while laying in your store of 
 knowledge, and come and share my room with me." 
 
 " Your room ? " I queried, in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes ; my mind is made up to enter the Art School 
 and be a sculptor, unless you think you would rather go 
 to Rio Janeiro and be a cow-puncher. I have made in- 
 quiries and been in correspondence with my good mother 
 on the question of ways and means, and this is what I am 
 going to do : I shall hire, somewhere over in the direction 
 of the Boulevard Montparnasse, a chamber that will cost 
 me sixty francs a year. I shall furnish it with a bed, two 
 chairs, a table, a few toilet and kitchen utensils, all which 
 mamma will send me from Bourgas, with what linen may 
 be required. I have calculated that I shall be able to live 
 in clover on seven hundred francs a year. My budget is 
 made up : rent, sixty francs ; provisions, that I propose 
 to cook myself, soldier fashion, one franc a day three 
 hundred and sixty-five francs a year ; fuel and gas, fifty 
 francs ; laundry and clothing, two hundred francs ; inci- 
 
 
 
288 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 dentals, seventy-five francs. So you see it is a question of 
 earning sixty-two to sixty-three francs a month to enable 
 me to model at my ease. The deuce is in it if I can't ob- 
 tain pupils, secure copying to do, or get some kind of 
 a job of that nature that will afford me the desired income. 
 At the start, if necessary, to overcome the initial difficul- 
 ties, I will give the half, or even two-thirds of my time. 
 But it is evident that the plan could be carried out by two 
 much more cheaply than by one : the larger expenses, such 
 as those for rent, heating and lighting, would be halved, 
 the cost of provisions reduced by a clear third. I am cer- 
 tain that we could manage to live on fifty francs a month. 
 A fellow can carry a hod at a pinch, if driven to it ! The 
 great point is to have a definite object in view and never 
 lose sight of it. 
 
 Baudouin, usually so shy and silent, spoke with singular 
 enthusiasm. It was clear that he was giving us the ab- 
 stract and epitome of his inmost reflections, his secret and 
 his scheme of life. He had nothing else that he could 
 call his own, he bestowed it on us freely. 
 
 As for me, and this will not surprise those who stop to 
 think how old I was at that time, this picture of a joyous 
 partnership in poverty attracted me powerfully, " mad 
 cow " appears so appetizing to one, so long as he is not 
 obliged to make it his regular diet. But M. Pellerin did 
 not allow me time to contemplate this beatific dream. 
 
 " My dear young friend," he said to Baudouin, "to look 
 unmoved on the prospect of from ten to fifteen years' un- 
 ceasing struggle against the meanest and most repulsive 
 difficulties of life, with artistic glory as the guerdon at the 
 end, is characteristic of a valiant soul. But it is one of 
 those exceptional enterprises in which no one should em- 
 bark unless he is sure he has the sacred fire. Adopt that 
 
AUNT AUBERT'S IRE. 289 
 
 course if you feel your loins are strong enough for .it, but 
 do not counsel others to follow your example. Let Albert 
 pursue a smoother road, which will be for that reason a 
 safer one." 
 
 Here Aunt Aubert joined in the conversation. 
 
 "That is well said/ 1 she declared, "and it is the first 
 sensible word I have heard spoken this night. I really 
 cannot help thinking I am dreaming, hearing you all talk 
 as if we were to be knocking at the poorhouse door to- 
 morrow. You owe a great deal of money, then ? " she 
 asked, addressing my father. 
 
 " No, thank God. I settled last month for our last 
 cargoes of beets, and the accounts are balanced." 
 
 " What, you owe nothing and give way to despair ? If 
 I understand aright, you lose by Lecachey's failure all 
 your working capital, together with the profits of the 
 year? " 
 
 "That is correct." 
 
 " That being the case, there is nothing to prevent the 
 business going on if you could obtain fresh capital ? " 
 
 " No, certainly." 
 
 " And is three hundred to four hundred thousand francs 
 the smallest sum that you can go on with ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! certainly not. The half of it would answer, 
 and even less. I would conduct the business on a more 
 modest scale, that 's all." 
 
 " That is what I supposed. You see that everything is 
 arranged and that there is no necessity for worrying an 
 instant longer." 
 
 My father wondered whether Aunt Aubert were not 
 taking leave of her senses. 
 
 " Why do you look at me in that way ? " she went on. 
 " The matter is perfectly simple, and I think that I talk 
 
SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 French. I have eight thousand two hundred francs of 
 rente on the grand livre, have n't I ? and I have always 
 been counting on leaving them to that great nephew of 
 mine. Very well ; you take them to-morrow morning, you 
 convert them into cabbages, or turnips, or loaves of sugar 
 and there you are ! The business runs along as if on 
 wheels, you pay the interest on your loan, you extinguish 
 the loan itself by instalments, and you give no more 
 thought to Lecachey, Son & Company than if those 
 amiable individuals had never been born." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Aubert ! It is out of the question ! - - we 
 can never agree to that ! " cried in chorus my father, 
 mamma, and grandpa. 
 
 Aunt Aubert drew herself up to her full height. I 
 never saw her really angry but once in my life, and that 
 was on this present occasion. 
 
 " Out of the question ! Can never agree to it ! I 
 should like to know what you mean, if you please ! " she 
 cried, in a tone that admitted of no reply. " Have I not 
 been eating your bread for sixteen years ? Am I a 
 stranger in this house ? Are we to begin at this late 
 day to figure up what is one's and what is another's ? So be 
 it, then. I will go pack my trunk and leave you, this in- 
 stant. I shall take Albert with me, though, understand ! 
 He is the only one who loves me here 
 
 My mother and I went to Aunt Aubert and threw our 
 arms about her neck. The dear lady was looking for her 
 shawl ; in her righteous indignation it seemed to her that 
 she needed no other preparation for departure. We em- 
 braced her, tenderly, seeking to appease her with soothing 
 words. 
 
 " No, you are a set of ingrates, all is at an end between 
 us. I am going I shall take an apartment in the quar- 
 
*I SHALL TAKE ALBERT WITH ME, UNDERSTAND! 
 
AUNT AUBERT'S IRE. 293 
 
 ter of the Pantheon. Albert will come and live with me 
 and pursue his legal studies. My mind is quite made up 
 unless you people here can give up treating me as a 
 stranger." 
 
 Her anger had given way to more tender sentiments 
 and she was weeping hot tears ; there was nothing left 
 for us to do but humbly ask forgiveness and accept her 
 offer. My father was both deeply affected and provoked. 
 
 "If I yield to you," he said, "it can only be on one 
 condition, that you become a partner in the concern 
 and let me act as your attorney." 
 
 In her present frame of mind Aunt Aubert was pre- 
 pared to make any concession. This scruple amused her, 
 however. 
 
 " Arrange matters to suit yourself, it is your business ; 
 I know nothing whatever about it, nor do I wish to know. 
 The main point is that Albert shall be at liberty to choose 
 a career to his liking. Further than that I ask for 
 nothing." 
 
 What answer was there to arguments like these ? We 
 could only bow before such disinterested kindness. 
 
 In the mutual tenderness of the members of a family, 
 when manifested in actions like my aunt's, there is a 
 secret virtue that dilates the heart and elevates it above 
 the calamity of the moment. Misfortune, even, is not 
 without its attendant solace : it serves to bring to light 
 the affection and devotion of those around us. 
 
 Again, it is the property of these great moral disturb- 
 ances to show life as in epitome and indicate by a sudden 
 inspiration the safest road to follow. But now you were 
 undecided, you knew not which way to turn. Now the 
 veil is stripped away, and you see distinctly in which 
 direction your duty lies. 
 
294 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE, 
 
 That is what occurred in my case. 
 
 "Dear father," I suddenly said, "since you are going 
 to have Aunt Aubert as your partner, why not take me as 
 your aide-de-camp? Your task henceforth will be one 
 that will tax your strength, you will have need of a 
 reliable and devoted assistant. Suffer me to be that 
 assistant. The education that you have given me will 
 not interfere with my becoming a good mechanic. And 
 besides, I can complete it by special studies while learning 
 the rudiments of the business, since, thanks to your fore- 
 sight, my time has been shared between scientific and 
 literary pursuits. I entreat you, father, let me have the 
 pleasure of assisting you in repairing our disaster." 
 
 My father's only reply was to fold me in his arms with 
 an eloquent tenderness which said : 
 
 " So let it be ! " 
 
 When M. Pellerin left us about midnight the clouds 
 seemed to have passed away and our sky to have resumed 
 its serenity. Aunt Aubert 's confidence and good cheer 
 had completed the work of her generous sacrifice. 
 
 We would have kept our excellent friend and given 
 him a bed, but he said he must go home and look over 
 his Latin oration for the last time. There was almost a 
 smile on my father's face as he thanked the professor for 
 coming so far to warn us of the impending disaster, and 
 when we retired, after a mutual exchange of heartfelt 
 embraces, it was with a sensation of pride and gratitude 
 that we were blessed with such good friends, and of 
 renewed strength due to the virile resolutions that the 
 unforeseen catastrophe had shown us to be necessary. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AT THE SORBONNE. A BUNCH OF PRIZES. LATEST 
 
 INTELLIGENCE. CONCLUSION. 
 
 WHEN morning came, however, black care had reas- 
 serted its rights. My father had gone out early in 
 quest of information. He had ascertained that there was no 
 possible doubt as to the downfall of the Lecachey bank, 
 and when brought face to face with stern figures and 
 realities he could not find it in his heart to be cheerful in 
 presence of the ruin of all his hopes. 
 
 "The wreck is complete, ship and cargo," he said to us 
 at breakfast, "but our honour is safe." 
 
 He would hot absent himself from the distribution of 
 the prizes awarded at the annual examinations. The 
 ceremony, as was the custom, took place in the great 
 ampitheatre of the Sorbonne. He had found places for 
 himself, mamma, Aunt Aubert, and grandpa in the gallery 
 to the left of the stage, not far from where Pere Plaisir, 
 Mounerol's grandfather, was seated, who had come up to 
 town that morning rejoicing in a brand-new suit of clothes 
 purchased expressly for the great occasion. On the benches, 
 that rose in tiers, were the noisy, clattering undergraduates, 
 in uniform or plain clothes, according as they hailed from 
 Sainte-Barbe or Descartes, Saint-Louis or Condorcet, 
 Rollin or Charlemagne, Stanislas or Montaigne. On 
 every side elegant toilets, the rustling of silks, the tossing 
 
296 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 of feathers and flowers, the waving of fans, the charming 
 faces of mothers and sisters. 
 
 My place was in the front row of my lycee, where 
 Payan, Dutheil, Segol, and Baudouin were my neighbours. 
 But in the midst of all that jollity it almost broke my 
 heart to see the look of profound melancholy that was 
 reflected in my father's dull and vacant eyes. It was 
 evident that the idea of his or rather our disaster had 
 taken possession of him and would not be dispossessed. 
 Grief for losing in a day the fruit of so many years of 
 patient toil, the reproaches that he heaped on himself for 
 having risked the means that should have been devoted to 
 the support of his family, and, yet more, perhaps, mortifi- 
 cation that he was powerless to retrieve his position with- 
 out endangering Aunt Aubert's little fortune, all these 
 considerations preyed on his mind and destroyed all inter- 
 est in the gay spectacle that lay before him. 
 
 It was in vain that mamma tried to divert him by 
 pointing out the distinguished persons in the boxes. It 
 was in vain that he himself made an effort from time to 
 time to speak a word of kindness to Pere Plaisir and 
 explain to him what was going on before his eyes, the 
 one dominant idea quickly recovered its ascendency and 
 my father again gave way to his sorrowful reflections. 
 He hardly raised his head when the roll of the drums 
 announced the arrival of the official cortege. 
 
 He watched, with languid interest, the procession defile 
 upon the stage, the Minister of Public Instruction in rich 
 ceremonial attire, the Academicians in their dress coats 
 embroidered with green palm-branches, the Faculties 
 preceded by their mace - bearers, the great dignitaries, 
 senators, generals, and councillors of State, interspersed 
 with judicial and municipal magistrates, the vice-rector of 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 297 
 
 the University and his corps of inspectors, the principals 
 and professors of colleges in gown and red or yellow cap, 
 and, bringing up the rear, the young men of the Normal 
 School, their buttonholes decked with violets. 
 
 When all these notables had obtained seats, the digni- 
 taries and invited guests upon the platform, the masters 
 and prospective professors on the lower benches of the 
 amphitheatre, the Minister called the assemblage to order, 
 and requested M. Pellerin to proceed with his oration. 
 
 I saw my father's face brighten for an instant at men- 
 tion of the familiar name. He bent forward in his seat in 
 order that he might hear more distinctly, and was evi- 
 dently summoning up his oldtime memories of Latin to 
 catch the meaning of the first periods of the well-turned 
 address. Two or three times, when some more than 
 usually happy allusion was greeted by the audience with 
 applause, I saw a faint smile play about his dear lips. But 
 presently, as if soothed by some soporific influence in the 
 stately periods that sounded in his ears, he appeared to 
 lose consciousness of what was going on around him, and 
 sank back into his previous condition of atony. 
 
 M. Pellerin's oration, however, delivered in a clear and 
 well-modulated voice, was an undoubted success. Con- 
 noisseurs admired it for its pure Latinity, and others for 
 its covert allusions, which more learned friends translated 
 for their benefit. He had, moreover, a merit that is as 
 highly appreciated as it is rare : he was brief, and in con- 
 sequence received the unanimous applause of the mammas 
 and little sisters as well as the papas and students. 
 
 Then the Minister who presided came forward and 
 spoke, in French on this occasion, not only to the audience 
 of the Sorbonne, one might say, but to France and to all 
 Europe. He mentioned the innovations and improve- 
 
298 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 , ments that had been introduced into the system during 
 the current year and those that he had in mind for the 
 coming year. His address had all the significance of a 
 manifesto, and, as it unfolded its somewhat prosy length, 
 reporters might be seen speeding away to their respective 
 offices to give the paper the words of wisdom that they 
 had caught hot from the speaker's mouth. 
 
 My father alone appeared to take no interest in the 
 proceedings, and to have ears only for the torturing 
 reflections that were rankling in his bosom. 
 
 At last the, to us, important ceremony of conferring 
 the honours began. The Minister in person announced 
 the recipient of the great prize in mathematics, and be- 
 stowed his crown on Payan. Then came the inferior 
 prizes, announced by the inspector of the academy, and 
 the prizes of honour in philosophy and rhetoric, which 
 were awarded respectively by the First President of the 
 Court of Cassation and the Commander-in-chief of the 
 army. 
 
 I observed a singular phenomenon, which was that the 
 applause of the audience was regulated, as was the number 
 of volumes given as prizes, by the importance of the subject. 
 Thus, each prize of honour consisted of forty sumptuously 
 bound volumes, with the arms of the Sorbonne and the 
 legend " Concours GMral" stamped on the covers, and 
 gave rise to repeated salvos of applause. The winners of 
 first and second prizes, who got respectively six and four 
 volumes, received in the former case two salvos, in the 
 latter one. Finally, the names of the accessit men, who 
 got no books at all, were generally rattled off with 
 strange rapidity, in the midst of a contemptuous silence. 
 Sometimes, however, it chanced that the name of an 
 honour man, who had been called up more than once even 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 299 
 
 for accessits, or was an especial favourite with his com- 
 rades, aroused the enthusiasm of his lyce"e which gener- 
 ally provoked reprisals on the part of a rival lyce"e, at the 
 first opportunity. 
 
 Another fact worthy of mention : the prize of honour 
 in rhetoric received the heartiest ovation of all. 
 
 Greatly to my satisfaction, it was at last given me on 
 this occasion to see an appreciable effect produced among 
 the occupants of the left-hand gallery. 
 
 At the moment when Mounerol mounted the platform 
 to receive his crown, I saw my father grasp the hand of 
 Pere Plaisir, who was shedding tears of joy, and give it a 
 cordial shake. Then, when my name was called for the 
 first time in French composition and was cheered by the 
 Montaignes, I saw my father smile on me, affectionately, 
 while mamma, Aunt Aubert, and grandpa craned their 
 heads forward as if saying : 
 
 " He is our boy ! that is our Albert ! " 
 
 But now the inspector, to whom of right belongs the 
 privilege of reading the honour lists, has passed the sched- 
 ule to an illustrious savant, full of years and glory, who 
 rises and says : 
 
 " Grand prize in history, founded by the Historical So- 
 ciety of France. First prize, Albert Besnard, freshman, 
 of the Lycee Montaigne." 
 
 Thunders of applause. I rise with unsteady steps, I 
 mount the platform, I receive my crown and forty vol- 
 umes, and return to my seat among my comrades, who 
 howl, clap, and stamp their feet in a way to make one fear 
 for the safety of the building. I finally have a chance to 
 give a look at my parents. What words are capable of 
 expressing my delight on beholding the change that has 
 come over my father's countenance ? 
 
30O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 His sorrows have fled and left him. He has forgotten 
 that he has so lately lost a fortune. His dear face is as I 
 love to see it, cheerful and smiling, and is no longer dark- 
 ened by the cloud of melancholy that has rested on it all 
 the morning. 
 
 Ah, how deeply I felt at that moment what joy and 
 comfort the least successes of their children afford loving 
 parents ! How clearly it dawned upon my mind, that 
 work, and work alone, is the great remedy for the troubles 
 and cares of life ! How I thanked in my heart M. Pellerin 
 for having restored to me my studious habits and M. 
 Aveline for having shown me the right way of learning 
 history ! How I vowed to myself that never, never 
 should my father have reason to wear a face other than 
 that he wore then, the face of happy days and hours of 
 triumph. 
 
 The reign of sadness ended with that moment. It had 
 vanished utterly. I saw my father chatting with Pere 
 Plaisir, asking him for latest news from Chatillon, ques- 
 tioning him as to his plans for the future. And Aunt 
 Aubert ! and mamma ! and grandpa ! surely, no one looking 
 at them would ever have imagined that ruin and disaster 
 were seated at our hearth. My prize in history had out- 
 weighed the half million and more that had taken wing 
 and vanished. 
 
 But the ceremony, like all things earthly, came to an 
 end. In the twinkling of an eye, with that celerity for 
 which Parisian assemblages are noticeable, the great am- 
 phitheatre was empty. My father had invited Jean Mou- 
 nerol and his grandfather to dine with us. The presence 
 of two first honour men in the courtyard of the Sorbonne, 
 as may be imagined, caused no little commotion. Our 
 books formed quite a library, no less than two cabs were 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 30! 
 
 needed to transport them. And then the adieux, the em- 
 braces, and hand-shakings that remained to be exchanged 
 with those good and loyal comrades, many of whom, 
 unable to obtain access to the amphitheatre, had crowded 
 around the doors to cheer us at our exit. All these cir- 
 cumstances did not help to facilitate our movements, and 
 but for Baudouin we might never have got away. But 
 nothing was capable of daunting him. He ran around in 
 the Boulevard Saint-Michel and engaged carriages, brought 
 them back in triumph, amid the envious glances of the 
 throng, anxious to be gone, and piled our prizes on the 
 driver's seat, stuffed them into corners, bestowed them 
 wherever there was an inch of room. 
 
 And he, too, although he little suspected it, was to have 
 his prize of honour. 
 
 While we were waiting for M. Pellerin, who was to 
 return with us to Billancourt, and had left us a moment to 
 lay aside his gown, Pere Plaisir pricked up his ears on 
 hearing the name Baudouin mentioned. 
 
 "Excuse me, monsieur," he said, "but are you Mon- 
 sieur Jacques Baudouin, of Bourgas, near Chatillon ? " 
 
 " Of course I am, Pere Plaisir ; you know me well 
 enough, and, believe me, I am delighted to meet you here 
 again on such an auspicious occasion." 
 
 " Ah ! you will excuse me ; you see my eyesight is not 
 as good as it used to be, and then you have grown so 
 since you left us. But that is neither here nor there, - 
 I have a letter for you from the mayor of Chatillon." 
 
 " From the mayor of Chatillon ? Indeed ! I wonder 
 what he can have to say to me," Baudouin exclaimed, 
 while Pere Plaisir, after fumbling in his pockets for quite 
 a while, finally produced an official looking document 
 bearing the seal of the mairie. 
 
302 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " I know nothing of what is in it. M. le Maire did n't 
 tell me. Hearing that I was coming up to Paris to see 
 my grandson receive his prizes, he just handed me this, 
 and told me to be sure to give it to you in person." 
 
 Baudouin broke the seal and read aloud : 
 
 " Monsieur: I have the pleasure to inform you that the munic- 
 ipal council of Chatillon-Sur-Leze, having been apprised of the 
 remarkable talent, in the opinion of experts, exhibited by you in 
 matters of art, and of your determination to devote yourself to the 
 study of sculpture, and having further ascertained that you are the 
 only son of a widow and without means for your support while pur- 
 suing the aforesaid studies, has at its meeting of this day adopted 
 the following resolution : 
 
 " First A donation of. one thousand francs, from the funds of 
 the commune, is hereby voted to M. Jacques Baudouin to enable him 
 to pursue his studies at the Ecole des Beaux-arts in Paris. 
 
 " Secondly This subvention shall be renewed at the expiration 
 of the year on receipt of a satisfactory report from the director of 
 the school. 
 
 " Be pleased to accept, monsieur, the assurance of my distin- 
 guished consideration. 
 
 " HENRI JUHEL, 
 
 " Mayor of Chdtillon. 
 
 " To Monsieur Jacques Baudouin, inmate of the Lyce"e Montaigne, 
 Paris." 
 
 " This is M. Pellerin's doing, I would n't be afraid to 
 swear to it ! " exclaimed Baudouin, red with surprise and 
 delight, while we embraced him as if we would devour 
 him. 
 
 At this moment, M. Pellerin was seen descending the 
 staircase from the cloak-room. 
 
 We were astounded to see that he, usually so sedate, 
 who had just delivered the Latin oration of the year, was 
 running, actually running toward us. A professor of rheto- 
 
BAUDOUIN BROKE THE SEAL AND READ ALOUD/ 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 305 
 
 ric ! In the courtyard of the Sorbonne ! Had those 
 venerable walls ever witnessed such a sight before ! 
 
 He held in his hand a newspaper, which he waved above 
 his head as he approached us. 
 
 "Great news!" he shouted, from a distance. "The 
 disaster is averted, Monsieur Besnard ! Here is the first 
 edition of the Temps ; a friend just gave it me. Read 
 what it says under the heading ' Latest ! ' ' 
 
 My father took the paper, and, following Baudouin's 
 example, read aloud : 
 
 " LATEST. Amsterdam, Monday, 2.50 A.M. The young man, 
 Lecachey, who robbed his father's bank of two million eight hundred 
 and thirty -nine thousand francs, and absconded, was arrested on 
 board the steamer Weser, just as she was on the point of sailing for 
 New York. He had taken passage under a fictitious name, but 
 broke down under the adroit questioning of the detectives, admitted 
 his identity, and made a full confession. The entire sum was found 
 in his travelling bag, with the exception of two one thousand-franc 
 notes, which he had converted into gold before leaving Paris. The 
 courts have taken cognizance of the affair, and the criminal's 
 extradition will probably be granted within two or three days." 
 
 And to the despatch was appended the following 
 news item : 
 
 " P.S. We learn that Lecachey's bank, which was compelled to 
 close its doors in consequence of the above-mentioned defalcation, 
 will proceed to liquidate, and probably pay its creditors a dividend of 
 from forty to fifty per cent." 
 
 A great load was removed from my father's bosom ; the 
 deep sigh of relief he gave spoke eloquently of the suffer- 
 ings of the past eighteen hours. He kissed my mother 
 and me in silence, then took Aunt Aubert's hand and 
 raised it respectfully to his lips. 
 
306 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Come, come, cousin ! are you going to stand on cere- 
 mony with me again to-day ? " she said, kissing him in 
 turn, and more deeply moved by his little demonstration 
 than she cared to show. " Let us be off at once for 
 Billancourt, else I shall not be in time to look to the 
 dinner ! " 
 
 That the drive home was merry, the repast cordial and 
 joyous, are facts that I think no one will dispute. 
 
 M. Pellerin, M. Aveline, M. Desbans, Captain Biradent, 
 Pere Plaisir, and Criquet, all seated around our board, a 
 prize of honour in the house, a thousand-franc scholarship 
 for Baudouin, the half of a large fortune recovered as if 
 by miracle, and, withal, a variety of delicious little dishes 
 prepared by Aunt Aubert's own fair hands, assuredly 
 these things were more than sufficient to put us all in high 
 good humour. I shall not attempt to repeat the toasts 
 that were drunk at dessert to the success of the three 
 representatives of the future who were seated at that 
 friendly board, but looking back from a distance of fifteen 
 years, it is gratifying to reflect that all those kind wishes 
 have been fully realized. 
 
 Jacques Baudouin, entering the ficole des Beaux-arts 
 that same year, three years later a student in Rome under 
 the auspices of the State, is now, as everybody is aware, 
 one of those whose achievements in sculpture reflect glory 
 upon France. He has lately been given an order for 
 some important work for the City of Paris ; his fame is 
 growing every day, and, while waiting for a fortune, he 
 enjoys a competency. He has never ceased to be my 
 best friend. 
 
 Jean Mounerol, graduating from the Ecole Normale with 
 the highest honours, is to-day one of the most eloquent 
 and popular professors of the College de France. 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 307 
 
 As for myself, my three children, for whom I have 
 thrown together these brief recollections, know that I 
 chose a career less brilliant than that of my two friends, 
 and sought an independence in the pursuits of business, at 
 the side of my father, of whom I was long the assistant, 
 whose partner I am to-day. Happiness, as much of it as 
 I could wish for, I have never failed to find in the society 
 of their lovely mother, my own, and our dear Aunt 
 Aubert. 
 
 Our circumstances have not always been as prosperous 
 as they are now. Notwithstanding Aunt Aubert's gener- 
 ous devotion, and the recovery of a portion of the Lecachey 
 indebtedness, times have occasionally been hard with us. 
 
 That partial recovery, even, was very slow, for the 
 wound inflicted on the credit of the bank ultimately 
 proved fatal to it ; it never regained its former standing, 
 and the unhappy Lecachey, ruined by the criminal folly 
 of his son, and the universal censure, which affixed an 
 indelible stigma to his name, was obliged to leave the 
 country. 
 
 It needed the united efforts of us all to stem the tide 
 of difficulties, force our way upward, step by step, to the 
 position we occupied before, and, at the end of ten years 
 of unremitting toil, make good our deficit. And it is a 
 subject of no little pride to me to reflect that, but for my 
 assistance, my father would probably never have attained 
 this end. It is to the simplification of the processes of 
 manufacture, the secret of which, thanks to my knowledge 
 of English, I was able to bring back with me from Great 
 Britain after several months spent in investigating the 
 methods of the great refineries of that country, that we 
 are chiefly indebted for the recent success of our opera- 
 tions. 
 
308 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 We have had no real sorrow in our family since the 
 year I left school, except the death of my beloved grand- 
 father. If he is no longer with us to fondle and cherish 
 the little Besnards of the present generation as he did the 
 little Besnard of the previous one, his memory still sur- 
 vives at our fireside, and I can say that the dear shade 
 continues to occupy in our hearts the place that his 
 virtues and kindly nature gained for him. 
 
 M. Pellerin, now a member of the Institute, has ever 
 remained our faithful and devoted friend, and will, I trust, 
 long preserve, for the benefit of my children, a store of 
 those sage maxims, which proved so advantageous to 
 Baudouin and me. In his hours of leisure he has always 
 been my master and my teacher. " You have a pen," he 
 said to me, " and I taught you how to use it ; why let it 
 rust in idleness ? " Instigated by him, I wrote, under an 
 assumed name, several articles on political economy for 
 one of the great reviews, and by doing so, I was told, was 
 the means of securing the passage of more than one pro- 
 gressive measure. It is a treat for M. Pellerin when I 
 ask him to read my manuscripts, at the head of which I 
 never fail to write in big schoolboy characters, as in the 
 old lyc^e days, Lege quceso. My Aunt Aubert, too, reads 
 them with fervid interest from beginning to end. She 
 declares that in all her reading she finds nothing half so 
 attractive. Poor Aunt Aubert ! 
 
 M. Desbans has gained additional reputation, and 
 relegated to the shadows of the past the sobriquet of 
 Tronc-de-C6ne by discovering several new principles in 
 mathematics. 
 
 As for M. Aveline, he still remains professor of history 
 at Montaigne, notwithstanding the successes gained almost 
 yearly by his pupils at the concours. It is those very sue- 
 
AT THE SORBONNE. 309 
 
 cesses that endear his position to him, and cause him to 
 prefer it to the grander title of professor of the faculty. 
 
 Captain Biradent, young still in heart as in the supple- 
 ness of his corporeal frame, figures in the Military Annual 
 as major in the territorial army. 
 
 Finally, my comrades of the Lycee Montaigne have 
 met with varying fortunes, according as they have exhib- 
 ited more or less wisdom in choosing their calling and 
 stuck to it with more or less energy and determination. 
 
 Payan, after directing operations at the second tunnel- 
 ing of Mont Cenis, is now chief engineer of the trans- 
 Saharian railway. Segol is professor of the third rank 
 in one of our provincial lycees. Dutheil, one of the most 
 distinguished lawyers of the Lyons bar. 
 
 Chavasse, after he had literally devoured the small 
 fortune left him by his parents, and made a failure of it 
 in several queer callings, wound up by becoming manager 
 of a table d' note of some celebrity in the Quartier 
 Popincourt, over which he presides in person every 
 evening. His convex paunch constitutes the establish- 
 ment's best advertisement. He might have attained 
 this glorious result, however, without wearing out the 
 seats of dozens of pairs of trousers on the benches of 
 the Lycee Montaigne. 
 
 Thorn ereau has remained constant to his vocation of 
 propagating the pun. When I last heard from him he 
 was conducting a small comic paper, the Jolly Joker s 
 Exchange I fear it is an occupation in which he re- 
 ceives more kicks and cuffs than half-pence. 
 
 Molecule is vainly looking for a publisher for his com- 
 plete poetical works, and while waiting for that rara avis 
 to disclose himself, performs the duties of bookkeeper in 
 one of the great dry goods shops. He smokes and snuffs 
 
310 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 
 as assiduously as ever, and has not grown an inch, unless 
 it be in his own estimation. 
 
 Verschuren is chef d 1 escadron in a huzzar regiment, and 
 sports one of the most magnificent mustaches in the 
 entire French army. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 S^&s* 
 
 f of THE . 
 
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 Bir.. 
 
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