After my engagement at the Royal came a holiday in Paris. It was there I met a very dear school friend, whom I had not seen since I was about ten years of age. My friend’s father was at this time German Consul at Paris. The incident which followed our meeting will be better explained by prefacing the story with the statement that as boys we were great billiard players. We were continually playing at each other’s houses, and, though we were such mere lads, we could even beat our fathers at the game. Nothing, therefore, was more natural than that, when we met, my friend should ask me if I was still a good player. As a matter of fact I was not in practice, but that did not deter us from deciding to try our skill. So we went to a room which he selected, and started a game. He did not know then that I had made my strength a profession; he was rather under the impression that I had followed my father’s desire and studied medicine. However, the game began, and, as we talked a good deal over old times and spoke in German and played rather slowly, I suppose we unconsciously annoyed a party of Frenchmen. At any rate they made unfriendly remarks, and before we had finished our game they marked on the slate that they had engaged the table. Wishing to play again, we were not disposed to give it up to people whose manner was obviously offensive. As our right to continue was disputed, the attendant was called, and it was pointed out that, according to the regulations of the establishment, we were perfectly within our rights in playing a second game. So we played on, and whilst we were joking and laughing about old times they, it seems, thought we were making fun of their discomfiture. When the game was finished we ordered two steaks, which were served at a table behind the players. We were still laughing over old times when one of the party came up, saying angrily, “I’ve had enough of your laughter; if you don’t stop be sure I’ll make you.” I told him that I was very sorry that my mood offended him, and if I could not laugh at our own personal jokes I should be sorrier still. It was added that I did not wish to interfere with him, and it was suggested also that he should attend to his own game and leave us alone. It was evident that he wished to pick a quarrel. Nor would hot words suffice him. Vowing that he must give me something to remember him by, he struck me across the face. Beneath this fresh insult I tried to remain quite calm, telling my assailant that it would be certainly better for him to take himself off and leave me alone. But at such times, when the temper is quick, good advice is not heeded; moreover, he probably thought he had to deal with some one of poor spirit.