f ink;
every one had to come with a full set of utensils. The inkhorn of those
days, a relic of the ancient pen case of which Rabelais speaks, was a
long cardboard box divided into two stages. The upper compartment held
the pens, made of goose or turkey quills trimmed with a penknife; the
lower contained, in a tiny well, ink made of soot mixed with vinegar.

The master's great business was to mend the pens--a delicate work, not
without danger for inexperienced fingers--and then to trace at the head
of the white page a line of strokes, single letters or words, according
to the scholar's capabilities. When that is over, keep an eye on the
work of art which is coming to adorn the copy! With what undulating
movements of the wrist does the hand, resting on the little finger,
prepare and plan its flight! All at once, the hand starts off, flies,
whirls; and, lo and behold, under the line of writing is unfurled
a garland of circles, spirals and flourishes, framing a bird with
outspread wings, the whole, if you please, in red ink, the only kind
worthy of such a pen. Large and small, we stood awestruck in the
presence of these marvels. The family, in the evening, after supper,
would pass from hand to hand the masterpiece brought back from school:
'What a man!' was the comment. 'What a man, to draw you a Holy Ghost
with a stroke of the pen!'

What was read at my school? At most, in French, a few selections from
sacred history. Latin recurred oftener, to teach us to sing vespers
properly. The more advanced pupils tried to decipher manuscript, a deed
of sale, the hieroglyphics of some scrivener.

And history, geography? No one ever heard of them. What difference did
it make to us whether the earth was round or square! In either case, it
was just as hard to make it bring forth anything.

And grammar? The master troubled his head very little about that; and we
still less. We should have been greatly surprised by the novelty and the
forbidding look of such words in the grammatical jargon as substantive,
indicative and subjunctive. Accuracy of language, whether of speech
or writing, must be learnt by practice. And none of us was troubled
by scruples in this respect. What was the use of all these subtleties,
when, on coming out of school, a lad simply went back to his flock of
sheep!

And arithmetic? Yes, we did a little of this but not under that learned
name. We called it sums. To put down rows of figures, not too long,
add them