without knowing what they are saying. With a patronising manner
they let them go on. He has doubtless read some book he did not
understand, whose passages he recites. He proves that God could not
create because at the poles bones and frozen plants have been found.
Then these lived, and now there are none.

I say nothing against that. But was not our earth convulsed by
various revolutions before the creation of man? We do not take
literally the statement that God created the world in six days. The
elements were formed during ages and ages. But can we deny God when
we look at the sky, the trees, and men themselves? Would we not say
that there is a hand which directs, punishes, and rewards--the hand
of God?

October 5th.

We went with Paul to a secluded part of the garden to shoot. My
hands trembled a little when, for the first time in my life, I took
a loaded gun, especially because Mamma was so frightened. I chose a
pumpkin twenty paces away for a target, and shot capitally. The
whole charge was in the pumpkin. The second time I fired at a piece
of paper twenty centimetres square, again I hit, and a third time a
leaf. Then I grew very proud and smiling. All fear disappeared and
it seems as if I had courage enough to go to war.

I carried the pumpkin, the paper, and the leaf in triumph to show to
Mamma, who is very proud of me.

Really, what harm is there in shooting? I need not become on that
account one of those detestable men-women with spectacles, masculine
coats, and canes. To fire a gun will not prevent my being gentle,
lovable, graceful, slender, vaporous (if I may use the word), and
pretty.

While shooting I am a man; in the water a fish; on horseback a
jockey; in a carriage a young girl; at an evening entertainment a
charming woman; at a ball a dancer; at a concert a nightingale with
notes extra low and high like a violin. I have something in my
throat which penetrates the soul, and makes the heart leap.

Seeing me with the gun, no one would imagine I could be indolent
and languishing at home. Yet, sometimes, when I undress in the
evening, I put on a long black cloak which half covers me and sit
down in an armchair. I seem so weak, so graceful (which I am in
reality) that again no one would imagine I could shoot.

I am a rarity. I shall be highly educated, _if God wills that I
should live and blesses me_. I am perfectly formed, my face is
pretty enough, I have a magnificent voice, intellect, and I sh