d become quite tame. They had plenty to
eat and drink, and a comfortable home, and not a care in the world;
and familiarity with their master had bred assurance; and so they had
become quite tame, and shamefully, abominably lazy. Luxury, we are
taught, was ever the mother of sloth. I could put my hand in amongst
them, and not one would bestir himself the littlest bit to escape me.
Mercedes and I were inseparable. I used to take her to school with me
every day; she could be more conveniently and privately transported
than a lamb. Each _lyceen_ had a desk in front of his form, and she
would spend the school-hours in mine, I leaving the lid raised a
little, that she might have light and air. One day, the usher having
left the room for a moment, I put her down on the floor, thereby
creating a great excitement amongst my fellow-pupils, who got up from
their places and formed an eager circle round her. Then suddenly the
usher came back, and we all hurried to our seats, while he, catching
sight of Mercedes, cried out, 'A mouse! A white mouse! Who dares to
bring a white mouse to the class?' And he made a dash for her. But she
was too quick, too 'cute, for 'the likes of' Monsieur le Pion. She
gave a jump, and in the twinkling of an eye had disappeared up my leg,
under my trousers. The usher searched high and low for her, but she
prudently remained in her hiding-place; and thus her life was saved,
for, when he had abandoned his ineffectual chase, he announced, 'I
should have wrung her neck.' I turned pale to imagine the doom she had
escaped as by a hair's-breadth. 'It is useless to ask which of you
brought her here,' he continued. 'But mark my words: if ever I find a
mouse again in the class _I will wring her neck_!' And yet, in private
life, this bloodthirsty _pion_ was a quite gentle, kindly, underfed,
underpaid, shabby, struggling fellow, with literary aspirations, who
would not have hurt a fly.

The secrets of a schoolboy's pocket! I once saw a boy surreptitiously
angling in Kensington Gardens, with a string and a bent pin. Presently
he landed a fish, a fish no bigger than your thumb perhaps, but still
a fish. Alive and wet and flopping as it was, he slipped it into his
pocket. I used to carry Mercedes about in mine. One evening, when I
put in my hand to take her out, I discovered to my bewilderment that
she was not alone. There were four little pink mites of infant mice
clinging to her.

I had enjoyed my visit to the theat