I was very late that morning on my way to school, and was afraid of
being scolded, as the master had told us he should question us on the
verbs, and I did not know the first word, for I had not studied my
lesson. For a moment I thought of playing truant. The air was so warm
and bright, and I could hear the blackbirds whistling in the edge of
the woods, and the Prussians who were drilling in the meadow behind the
sawmill. I liked this much better than learning the rules for verbs,
but I did not dare to stop, so I ran quickly towards school.
As I passed the mayor’s office, I saw people standing before the
little bulletin-board. For two years it was there that we received
all the news of battles, of victories, and defeats. “What is it now?”
I thought, without stopping to look at the bulletin. Then, as I ran
along, the blacksmith, who was there reading the bill, cried out to me,
“Not so fast, little one, you shall reach your school soon enough.” I
thought he was laughing at me and ran faster than ever, reaching the
school yard quite out of breath.
Usually, at the beginning of school, a loud noise could be heard from
the street. Desks were being opened and closed, and lessons repeated at
the top of the voice. Occasionally the heavy ruler of the master beat
the table, as he cried, “Silence, please, silence!” I hoped to be able
to take my seat in all this noise without being seen; but that morning
the room was quiet and orderly. Through the open window I saw my
schoolmates already in their places. The master was walking up and down
the room with the iron ruler under his arm and a book in his hand. As I
entered he looked at me kindly, and said, without scolding, “Go quickly
to your place, little Franz; we were just going to begin without you.
You should have been here five minutes ago.”
I climbed over my bench and sat down at once at my desk. Just then
I noticed, for the first time, that our master wore his fine green
coat with the ruffled frills, and his black silk embroidered cap. But
what surprised me more was to see some of the village people seated
on the benches at the end of the room. One of them was holding an old
spelling-book on his knee; and they all looked sadly at the master.
While I was wondering at this, our schoolmaster took his place, and in
the same kind tone in which he had received me, he said: “My children,
this is the last time that I shall give you a lesson. An order has come
from Berlin that no language but German may be taught in the schools of
Alsace and Lorraine. A new master will come to-morrow who shall teach
you in German. To-day is your last lesson in French. I beg of you to
pay good attention.”
These words frightened me. This is what they had posted on the
bulletin-board, then! This is what the blacksmith was reading. My last
lesson in French! I hardly knew how to write, and I never should learn
now. How I longed for lost time, for hours wasted in the woods and
fields, for days when I had played and should have studied. My books
that a short time ago had seemed so tiresome, so heavy to carry, now
seemed to me like old friends. I was thinking of this when I heard my
name called. It was my turn to recite. What would I not have given to
be able to say the rules without a mistake? But I could not say a word
and stood at my bench without daring to lift my head. Then I heard the
master speaking to me.
“I shall not scold you, little Franz. You are punished enough now.
Every day you have said to yourself: ‘I have plenty of time. I shall
learn my lesson to-morrow.’ Now you see what has happened.”
Then he began to talk to us about the French language, saying that it
was the most beautiful tongue in the world, and that we must keep it
among us and never forget it. Finally he took the grammar and read us
the lesson. I was surprised to see how I understood. Everything seemed
easy. I believe, too, that I never listened so well; and it seemed
almost as if the good man were trying to teach us all he knew in this
last lesson.
[Illustration]
The lesson in grammar ended, we began our writing. For that day the
master had prepared some new copies, on which were written, “Alsace,
France; Alsace, France.” They seemed like so many little flags floating
about the schoolroom. How we worked! Nothing was heard but the voice
of the master and the scratching of pens on the paper. There was no
time for play now. On the roof of the schoolhouse some pigeons were
softly cooing, and I said to myself, “Shall they, too, be obliged to
sing in German?”
From time to time, when I looked up from my page, I saw the master
looking about him as if he wished to impress upon his mind everything
in the room.
After writing, we had a history lesson, and then the little ones
recited. Oh, I shall remember that last lesson!
Suddenly, the church clock struck the hour of noon. The master rose
from his chair. “My friends,” said he, “my friends,--I--I--” But
something choked him; he could not finish the sentence. He turned to
the blackboard, took a piece of chalk, and wrote in large letters,
“VIVE LA FRANCE!” Then he stood leaning against the wall, unable to
speak. He signed to us with his hand: “It is ended. You are dismissed.”
--_From the French of_ ALPHONSE DAUDET.
* * * * *
Do not look for wrong and evil--
You will find them if you do:
As you measure for your neighbor,
He will measure back to you.