CHAPTER XXI.



The time now arrived for me to begin regular lessons and to write
exercises in copy-books, which I invariably smeared with ink--ah! what
gloom and dreariness suddenly came into my life.

I remember that I performed my tasks spiritlessly and sulkily, and that
my lessons bored me inexpressibly. And since I wish to be very sincere,
it is necessary for me to add that my teachers also were well-nigh
intolerable to me.

Alas! well do I remember the one who first taught me Latin (rosa, the
rose; cornu, the horn; tonitru, the thunder). This tutor was very old
and bent, and as sad of face as a rainy November day. He is dead now,
the poor old fellow--sweet peace to his soul! He was exactly like that
"Mr. Ratin" hit off in caricature so neatly by Topffer; he had all the
marks, even to the wart with the three hairs, and fine wrinkles
beyond number at the end of his old nose; to me his face was the
personification of all that was hideous and disgusting.

He arrived every day precisely at noon; and a chill would pass through
me when I heard his knock which I would have recognized among a
thousand.

Always after his departure, I attempted to purify that part of my table
where his elbow had rested by rubbing it hard with the napkin which