Tears of sympathy for the boy trickled down my cheeks; I thought it was lovely.

"Well," I said, when I had recovered, "it serves you right."

"I will _plough_ that boy!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"No, you won't do that," I said. "How did he do the rest of the paper?"

"Very well, indeed; the impudent scamp is a clever fellow."

"And a wit," I added; "you must not _plough_ him."

I never knew the fate of that boy, although I believe I saved him.

But what I do know is that never, never since, has the question found place in the Matriculation papers of the University of London.

A boy, having to give the etymology of the French word _dimanche_, and explain why "book" and "pound" are expressed by the same French word _livre_, perpetrated the following:

"_Dimanche_ is a compound word, formed from _di_ (twice), and _manche_ (to eat), because you take two meals on that day (Sunday)."[8]

[8] _Dear boy! he probably was a weekly boarder, and the Sunday fare at home had left sweet recollections in his mind. This beats Swift's etymology of "cuc.u.mber," which he once gave at a dinner of the Philological Society: "King Jeremiah, Jeremiah King, Jerkin, Gherkin, Cuc.u.mber."_

"_Livre_ stands for 'book' as well as for 'pound,' because the accounts of 'pounds' are kept in 'books.'"

It was the same boy who, being asked for the meaning of _cordon bleu_, answered "a teetotaler."

A young Briton, having to derive the French word _tropique_, wrote:

"This word comes from _trop_ (too much), and _ique_ (from Latin _hic_ which means _here_), with the word _heat_ understood, that is to say: _Tropique_, it is too hot here."

Another boy, with a great deal of imagination and power of deduction, having to give the derivation of the French word _cheval_, wrote the following essay:

"_Cheval_ comes from the Latin _equus_. The letter _u_ was written _v_, which gave

_equus_ = _eqvus_ = quevus.

"This word became _quevalus_, which finally gave _cheval_."

We might exclaim with d'Aceilly:

"_Cheval_ vient d'_equus_, sans doute; Mais il faut convenir aussi Qu'a venir de la jusqu'ici, Il a bien change sur la route."[9]

[9] "_'Cheval' comes from 'equus' no doubt; but it must be confessed that, to come to us in that state, it has sadly altered on the way._"

This boy's method is, after all, a return to the old methods. If we consult Menage's Etymological Dictionary, we see that he easily derives _rat_ from _mus_, and _haricot_ from _faba_, to take only two instances of the method.

"The Latin _mus_," he says, "became _muratus_, and then _ratus_, which gave us _rat_."

He deals no less successfully with _haricot_, viz:

"The Latin _faba_ became by corruption _fabaricus_, which altered into _fabaricotus_, and finally into _aricotus_, which gave us _haricot_."

After this we may appreciate Voltaire's remark that "philologists take no account of vowels, and very little notice of consonants."

Nor do boys.

If the answers given by candidates at examinations are often remarkable, the questions asked by the examiners are often more wonderful still. Here are a few which have been seriously asked, and--_proh pudor!_--published:

"Define, with reference to pa.s.sages in the _Lettres Provinciales_, 'grace suffisante,' 'grace efficace,' 'grace actuelle,' '_casuisme_,'

'pouvoir prochain,' 'probabilisme.' Also explain what is meant by 'casuistry.' What can be said in its defence?"

"Give some account of Escobar."

"What are the princ.i.p.al differences between the Latin and the French languages?"

Well might an eminent _confrere_ exclaim one day:

"Is not all this printed and published to discourage the study of French?"

I once heard an examiner ask a dear little fellow, aged eleven, the following poser:

"Give me the derivations of all the words of the French sentence you have just read aloud."

Poor little boy! He took the examiner for a wonderful man.

So he was.

English examinations consist of so many papers to be taken up; the "viva voce" does not play an important part in England, as it does in France.

A "viva voce" examination very often gives the examiner a better idea of the candidate's abilities and knowledge than a written one, but it has many drawbacks. It favors babblers and the self-a.s.sured, and does not enable the timid to show themselves at their best.

The more learned the examiner, the more kind and indulgent is he to the candidates.

Sainte-Claire Deville, the famous French chemist, had to be declined by the authorities at the Sorbonne as an examiner, because he used to answer his questions himself to save the candidates trouble.