ent shoulders that come of
much stooping over the desk, sat beside the counter. Monsieur
Servien's eyes rested on his face with a deprecating air.

When the boy appeared, the stranger asked if this was the young
man in question, adding in a scolding voice:

"You are all the same. You work and sweat and wear yourselves
out to make your sons bachelors of arts, and you think the day
after the examination the fine fellows will be posted Ambassadors.
For God's sake! no more graduates, if you please! We can't tell
what to do with 'em.... Graduates indeed! Why, they block the
road; they are cab-drivers, they distribute handbills in the
streets. You have 'em dying in hospital, rotting in the hulks!
Why didn't you teach your son your own trade? Why didn't you
make a bookbinder of him? ... Oh! I know why; you needn't tell
me,--out of ambition! Well, then! some day your son will die of
starvation, blushing for your folly--and a good job too! The State!
you say, the State! it's the only word you can put your tongues
to. But it's cluttered up, the State is! Take the Treasury; you
send us graduates who can't spell; what d'ye expect us to do
with all these loafers?"

He drew his hand across his hot forehead. Then pointing a finger
to show he was addressing Jane:

"At any rate, you write a good hand?"

Monsieur Servien answered for his son, saying it was legible.

"Legible! Legible!" repeated the great man--throwing his fat
hands about. "A copying clerk must write an even hand. Young man,
do you write an even hand?"

Jean said he did not know, his handwriting might have been spoilt,
he had never thought very much about it. His questioner frowned:

"That's very wrong," he blustered; "and I dare swear you young
fellows make a silly affectation of not writing decently.... I
may have a bit of influence at the Ministry, but you mustn't
ask me to do impossibilities."

The bookbinder shrunk back with a scared glance. _He_ certainly
did not look the man to ask impossibilities.

The other got up:

"You will take lessons," he said, turning to Jean, "in writing
and ciphering. You have eight months before you. Eight months
from now the Minister will hold an examination. I will put your
name down. Do you set to work without losing a minute!"

So saying, he pulled out his watch, as though to see if his protege
was actually going to waste a single minute before beginning his
studies. He directed Monsieur Servien to get to work withou