Short stories and selections for use in the secondary schools
General
Short stories and selections for use in the secondary schools
English prose literature; Readers; Short stories
I was very late for school that morning, and I was afraid of being
scolded, especially as Monsieur Hamel had told us that he should examine
us on participles, and I did not know the first thing about them. For a
moment I thought of staying away from school and wandering about the
fields. It was such a warm, lovely day. I could hear the blackbirds
whistling on the edge of the wood, and in the Rippert field, behind the
sawmill, the Prussians going through their drill. [Footnote: Prussians
going through their drill. The time of the story is laid at the end of
the Franco-Prussian War.] All that was much more tempting to me than the
rules concerning participles; but I had the strength to resist, and I
ran as fast as I could to school. As I passed the Mayor's office, I saw
that there were people gathered about the little board on which notices
were posted. For two years all our bad news had come from that
board--battles lost, conscriptions, [Footnote: Conscription: compulsory
enrollment for military service.] orders from headquarters; and I
thought without stopping:
"What can it be now?"
Then, as I ran across the square, Wachter the blacksmith, who stood
there with his apprentice, reading the placard, called out to me:
"Don't hurry so, my boy; you'll get to your school soon enough!"
I thought that he was making fun of me, and I ran into Monsieur Hamel's
little yard all out of breath.
Usually, at the beginning of school, there was a great uproar which
could be heard in the street, desks opening and closing, lessons
repeated aloud in unison, with our ears stuffed in order to learn
quicker, and the teacher's stout ruler beating on the desk:
"A little more quiet!"
I counted on all this noise to reach my bench unnoticed, but as it
happened, that day everything was quiet, like a Sunday morning. Through
the open window I saw my comrades already in their places, and Monsieur
Hamel walking back and forth with the terrible iron ruler under his arm.
I had to open the door and enter, in the midst of that perfect silence.
You can imagine whether I blushed and whether I was afraid!
But no! Monsieur Hamel looked at me with no sign of anger and said very
gently:
"Go at once to your seat, my little Frantz; we were going to begin
without you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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