promising doll-like stiffness; they were relegated to their
card-board box, the poor little things, where they slept the sleep
eternal, and without doubt they will never be exhumed.

My new scenes had nothing in common with the old fairy spectacle: in the
depths of virgin forests, in exotic gardens, and oriental palaces
formed of pearls and gold I tried to realize, with the small means at
my command, all my dreams, while waiting for that improbable better time
that ever lies in the future.

CHAPTER LVIII.

That hard winter passed under the ferule of the "Bull of Apis" and the
"Great Ape," finally came to an end and spring returned; it was always
a troublous time for us, the scholars, for the first mild days gave us
a great longing to be out, and we could scarcely hide our restlessness.
The roses budded everywhere upon our old walls; my beloved little
garden, bright and warm under the March sunshine, tempted me, and I
would tarry there a long time to watch the insects wake up, and to see
the early butterflies and bees fly away. Even the revised "Donkey's
Skin" was neglected.

I was no longer escorted to and from school, for I had persuaded my
family to discontinue a custom that made me ridiculous in the eyes of
my companions. Often, before returning home, I would take a long and
roundabout way and pass by the peaceful ramparts from where I had
glimpses of other provinces, and a sight of the distant country.

I worked with even less zeal than usual that spring, for the beautiful
weather that tempted me out of doors turned my head and made study
almost impossible.

Assuredly one of the things for which I had the least aptitude was
French composition; I generally composed a mere rough draught without a
particle of embellishment to redeem it. In the class there was a boy who
was a very eagle, and he always read his lucubrations aloud. Oh! with
what unction he read out his pretty creations! (He is now settled in a
manufacturing town, and has become the most prosaic of petty bailiffs.)
One day the subject given out was: "A Shipwreck." To me the words had
a lyrical sound! But, nevertheless, I handed in my paper with only the
title and my name inscribed upon it. No, I could not make up my mind
to elaborate the subjects given to us by the "Great Ape"; a sort of
instinctive good taste kept me from writing trite commonplaces, and as
for putting down things of my own imagining, the knowledge that they
would be read