ere to be
kept constantly contradistinguished from each other, that his
cross-examinations kept us in eternal confusion.

"Vat," he would exclaim to some new boy fresh from some grammar-school
on the Etonian system--"Vat do you mean by dranslating Zeus Jupiter? Is
dat amatory, irascible, cloud-compelling god of Olympus, vid his eagle
and his aegis, in the smallest degree resembling de grave, formal, moral
Jupiter Optimus Maximus of the Roman Capitol?--a god, Master Simpkins,
who would have been perfectly shocked at the idea of running after
innocent Fraulein dressed up as a swan or a bull! I put dat question to
you vonce for all, Master Simpkins." Master Simpkins took care to agree
with the Doctor. "And how could you," resumed Dr. Herman majestically,
turning to some other criminal alumnus,--"how could you presume to
dranslate de Ares of Homer, sir, by the audacious vulgarism Mars?--Ares,
Master Jones, who roared as loud as ten thousand men when he was hurt;
or as you vill roar if I catch you calling him Mars again?--Ares, who
covered seven plectra of ground? Confound Ares, the manslayer, with the
Mars or Mavors whom de Romans stole from de Sabines!--Mars, de solemn
and calm protector of Rome! Master Jones, Master Jones, you ought to be
ashamed of yourself!" And then waxing enthusiastic, and warming more and
more into German gutturals and pronunciation, the good Doctor would lift
up his hands, with two great rings on his thumbs, and exclaim: "Und Du!
and dou, Aphrodite,--dou, whose bert de seasons vel-coined! dou, who
didst put Atonis into a coffer, and den tid durn him into an
anemone! dou to be called Venus by dat snivel-nosed little Master
Budderfield!--Venus, who presided over Baumgartens and funerals and
nasty tinking sewers!--Venus Cloacina, O mein Gott! Come here, Master
Budderfield: I must flog you for dat; I must indeed, liddle boy!" As our
Philhellenic preceptor carried his archaeological purism into all Greek
proper names, it was not likely that my unhappy baptismal would escape.
The first time I signed my exercise I wrote "Pisistratus Caxton" in my
best round-hand. "And dey call your baba a scholar!" said the Doctor,
contemptuously. "Your name, sir, is Greek; and, as Greek, you vill
be dood enough to write it, vith vat you call an e and an
o,--P,e,i,s,i,s,t,r,a,t,o,s. Vat can you expect for to come to,
Master Caxton, if you don't pay de care dat is proper to your own dood
name,--de e, and de o? Ach? let me s