But I succeeded best of all in the French class of the Abbé d'Aulnoi, a French _emigré_ who had written a number of grammars, and wore a red wig, and jumped about very nervously when he recited his _Art poétique_, and his _Histoire Allemande_. He was the only one in the whole gymnasium who taught German history. Still French has its difficulties, and to learn it there must be much quartering of troops, much drumming in, much _apprendre par coeur_, and above all, no one should be a _bête allemande_. Thus many bitter words came in. I remember still, as though it happened yesterday, the scrapes I got into through _la réligion_. Six times came the question:--"Henry, what is the French for 'the faith?'" And six times, ever more tearfully, I replied, "It is called _le crédit_." And at the seventh question, with a deep cherry-red face, my furious examiner cried, "It is called _la réligion_"--and there was a rain of blows, and all my school-fellows laughed. Madame!--since that day I can never hear the word _réligion_ but my back turns pale with terror, and my cheeks red with shame. And to speak truly, _le crédit_ has during my life stood me in better stead than _la réligion_. It occurs to me at this moment that I still owe the landlord of the Lion, in Bologna, five thalers. And I pledge you my word of honour that I would owe him five thalers more if I could only be certain that I should never again hear that unlucky word, _la réligion_. _Parbleu_, Madame! I have succeeded well in French! I understand not only _patois_, but even aristocratic nurse-maid French. Not long ago, when in noble society, I understood full one-half of the conversation of two German countesses, each of whom could count at least sixty-four years, and as many ancestors. Yes, in the _Café Royal_, at Berlin, I once heard Monsieur Hans Michel Martens talking French, and understood every word, though there was no understanding in it. We must know the spirit of a language, and this is best learned by drumming. _Parbleu!_ how much do I not owe to the French Drummer who was so long quartered in our house, who looked like a Devil, and yet had the heart of an angel, and who drummed so excellently. He was a little, nervous figure, with a terrible black moustache, beneath which the red lips turned suddenly outwards, while his fiery eyes glanced around.