eyes of a shade that somehow reminded you of an autumn morning.
He lay back in his armchair, his legs stretched out in front of
him, displaying his silver-buckled shoes and black stockings.

"It seems then, my dear boy," he began, "you wish, so my venerable
friend the Abbé Marguerite informs me, to devote yourself to
teaching; and your idea would be to prepare for your degree while
at the same time performing the duties of an assistant master
to supervise the boys at their work. It is a humble office; but
it will depend entirely on yourself, my dear young friend, to
dignify it by a heartfelt zeal and a determination to succeed.
I shall entrust the studies of the _Remove_ to your care. Our
bursar will inform you of the conditions attaching to the post."

Jean bowed and made to leave the room; but suddenly the Abbé Bordier
beckoned him to stop and asked abruptly:

"You understand the rules of verse?"

"Latin verse?" queried Jean.

"No, no! French verse. Now, would you rhyme _trône_ with _couronne_?
The rhyme is not, it must be allowed, quite satisfactory to the
ear, yet the usage of the great writers authorizes it."

So saying, the old fellow laid hold of a bulky manuscript book.

"Listen," he cried, "listen. It is St. Fabricius addressing the
Proconsul Flavius: