"Boys," said I, to finish up, "I must have been sadly mistaken in you; the best thing we can do is to go back to addition and subtraction to-morrow."

Without being quite so hard as that upon them, I set them an easy task for the next lesson; the bell rang, and the boys dispersed.

I immediately went to the head mathematical master, and had the difficulty explained away in a few seconds.

How simple things are when they are explained, to be sure!

Armed with a new insight into Stocks, I was ready for my young friends the following Friday. After the ordinary work had been got through:

"Now," I said, "have you had another try at that sum, any of you?"

"Yes, sir; but we can't do it," was the reply.

"Well," I said, in a relenting tone, as I went to the blackboard, "I suppose we had better do it together."

I made the boys confess it was too stupid of them to have proved unequal to this _simple_ sum; and thus they regained my good graces.

Later in the day I received the glad tidings that the master I replaced was better (goodness knows if I had prayed for the return of his health!). He was to have his boys next time.

Thus was I enabled to retire from the field with flying colors.

If you do not love boys, never be a school-master. If you love boys and wish to become a school-master, see that you are a good disciplinarian, or take _Punch's_ advice to those about to marry:

"Don't."

X.

ENGLISH BOYS' PATRIOTISM PUT TO A SEVERE TEST.--THEIR OPINION OF FRENCH VICTORIES.--KING LOUIS VI. OF FRANCE AND THE ENGLISH SOLDIER AT THE BATTLE OF BRENNEVILLE.--AN ENGLISH BOY ON FRENCH WRESTLING.--YOUNG TORY DEMOCRATS.--'IMPERIUM ET LIBERTAS.'--A PATRIOTIC ANSWER.--DUCK AND DRAKE.

I am afraid I often put the patriotism of English boys to a severe test.

I generally liked to place in their hands such books as would relate to them the glorious past of France, and teach them to respect her. Let those who do not love their country throw the first stone at me.

Bossuet's "Funeral Orations," Voltaire's "Siecle de Louis XIV.,"

D'Aubigne's "History of Bayard," Bonnechose's "Lazare Hoche," were among my favorite text-books.

I need not say that I always avoided recommending historical books which, like Bonnechose's "Bertrand du Guesclin," for instance, referred to struggles between France and England. For obvious reasons, I have always preferred reading the accounts of the battles of Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt in French histories to reading them in English ones;[12] and I imagined that Bertrand du Guesclin would not inspire in my pupils the same admiration as he did in us French boys.

[12] _I have always been doubtful whether these battles are properly related in histories published in England._

But what fiery patriots these British lads are! Why, they would like to monopolize all the victories mentioned in history.

Bossuet's panegyric of Louis XIV. drove them frantic, half mad. Dear little fellows! they were wriggling with pain on their seats as we were reading: "This king, the terror of his enemies, who holds the destinies of Europe in the hollow of his hand and strikes with awe the whole astonished world."

"The whole world struck with awe!" that could not be. Surely Bossuet ought to have said "with the exception of England"--a sad omission on his part.

"Who is it Bossuet is speaking of?" once remarked a good little patriot, on hearing this sentence.

"Louis XIV."

"Louis XIV.?"

"Yes; never heard of him?"

I don't think he had.

Bayard they all liked. His personal deeds of valor appealed to their young imaginations. His athletic powers especially stirred their hearts with admiration.

Besides, his exploits took place such a long time ago that they felt ready to be lenient towards him.

We once came across the name of Louis VI. of France in some French text, and I was unfortunate enough to mention in cla.s.s that, at the battle of Brenneville, an English soldier came up to the French king, and called upon him to surrender, when Louis VI. remarked: "Don't you know that, at chess, the king cannot be taken prisoner?" and immediately struck the English soldier dead on the spot.

The boys seemed displeased. They looked at one another; it was evident that they thought there was something wrong. The dose was too strong for them to swallow.

I inquired of a little lad, who appeared particularly distressed, what was the matter.

"Please, sir," he said, "did not the English soldier try to kill the French king?"

"Well, I suppose he did," I replied; "but King Louis VI. was very strong, you know."

"He must have been!" he remarked, no doubt feeling more comfortable after my explanation.

This historical anecdote of an Englishman allowing himself to be felled to the ground by a Frenchman puts me in mind of a little conversation I heard in my school-days.

Two young boys, one French, the other English, were talking athletics in the playground, and the English boy asked his young friend to explain to him the principles of French wrestling.

The little French lad proceeded, in a vivacious manner, to describe the successive moves of the sport.

He used the first person singular to make his description more forcible.

"First," he said, "I would get a good grasp of your waist with my right arm, whilst I would collar you with my left one; then, don't you see, I would twist my right leg round one of yours; then----"

"Ah! but wait a minute," exclaimed the English boy, with a smile. "What should I be doing all this time? Looking at you, I suppose?"

It was at the meetings of our French Debating Society that free play was given to youthful patriotism. Good heavens! what a _tabula rasa_ of the map of the world! What fresh jewels added to the British crown!

I don't think there is a single little corner of the globe worth mentioning that these boys did not lay their hands on. With what a crushing majority the "Peace, Retrenchment, and Reform" policy was defeated! Was it not an insult to this glorious country to suggest that a reform was needed?