All those books were marked by the author's extraordinary accuracy. One could have forgiven a man who was in such great pain if he had shown signs of carelessness, yet a lack of thoroughness was the one thing which annoyed Francis Parkman. He expected other people to be thorough and painstaking in their work, and he carried it out in his own life. If there was the least doubt about any statement he would not rest until he had looked carefully into the matter. As a result his books probably rank as the most reliable authorities on Indian life, customs and history. The thoroughness and accuracy of his books is admitted by all. During the period 1848 to 1867 he never knew a day when his body was not racked with pain, and yet the books he wrote during these years of severe suffering are a model of first-class workmanship. Many great universities hastened to honour the scholar who had worked under such great difficulties. In 1879 McGill University conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws and Languages, and Harvard University honoured him with the same degree in 1889. He was made an honourary member of over twenty scientific societies in Great Britain and America. He died in 1893 at the age of seventy. Thus came to an end the life of one who, in spite of terrible handicaps, became one of the greatest historians of his age. CHAPTER XII. HOW A POOR BOY BECAME A GREAT SCIENTIST. Just a few days before Christmas, in 1823, a little boy was born in the French village of Saint Leons. His parents were very poor, and the young boy, whose name was Jean Henri Fabre, was sent to live with his grandparents, who tilled a small farm some miles away. There he lived until he was seven, and made friends with the calves, the sheep, the geese and the hens, who were almost his sole companions. His grandparents had no education. They had never opened a book in their lives. They had lived all their lives in that lonely farmhouse, and they knew little, and cared less, about the outside world. The grandfather was a stern old man, with his serious face, and unclipped hair, which he generally brought behind his ears with a flick of his thumb. He wore curious breeches, buckled at the knees, and heavy wooden shoes stuffed with straw. Young Henri was devoted to his old grandmother, who, while she could not read, told the little fellow many a thrilling story. When meal time came all the members of the family, big and little, sat round the table, which consisted of long planks laid over two benches. At one end of the table would be a huge loaf of rye bread, which only the grandfather was allowed to cut. The grandmother generally attended to the bacon and turnips, which formed the staple food. Sometimes, on special occasions, there would be a good supply of homemade cheese. There were no proper beds in the little home, but as Henri was the youngest, he was given a sack, stuffed with oat-chaff, upon which to sleep.