These gentlemen received the sounding title of "geometers." A surveyor
was a plain surveyor; and as these people, for some reason or other,
were to appear to the peasantry in the light of a superior rank of
beings, and, as it was important to disseminate a knowledge of and
taste for the classics, they received the Greek addition. Crescence's
playmate had married a geometer-general (should he not have been called
a hypergeometer?) and lived at Biberach: this had made Crescence
acquainted with one of his colleagues, and her parents were most
anxious to push matters, for a better "providence" could not have been
hoped for. The Red Tailor in his mind's eye already saw his daughter as
Madame Geometrix-General.

2.
FLYING OFF THE HANDLE.

It was dark. Crescence stood by the fire in the kitchen: the College
Chap came in with very audible steps, and said,--

"Crescence, how are you? I want a pound of that tobacco. Have you got
any left?"

"Yes, walk in: my mother 'll wait on you."

"I won't poison your soup if I do stay here a bit," he said aloud: then
he continued, very softly, "Florian's got home. Come out a little after
a while, and you shall hear us."

Without waiting for an answer, he went into the room. When he came out
again, Crescence was gone.

A little later the voices of the three comrades were heard before the
Red Tailor's house, singing, whistling, and laughing. Florian's, which
had long been wanting, was doubly clear and full. Finding all their
efforts unavailing, Peter cried under the window,--

"Crescence, isn't this your goose running about here?"

The College Chap, crouching behind the wood-pile, was cackling with the
accent of a native.

The window was opened; but, instead of Crescence, the tailor's wife
looked out, and said,--

"Crack your jokes before somebody else's house."

With a roar of laughter the College Chap returned to the middle of the
road.

Within, Crescence sat with the geometer, paying but little heed to his
blandishments: at last she feigned a headache and went to bed.

Tired of their fruitless watch, the three boys in the road bent their
steps toward the inn. They had not gone far before they encountered
Josey, the French simpleton. The College Chap cried, seizing him by the
collar,--

"_Qui vive? la bourse on la vie?_"

"_Paridadoin mullien_," calmly replied the person addressed, meaning to
say, "What d