eye, then
graciously expressed his approval.

"Bonus, Bonus."

But the lesson?

That bitter piece!

Even yesterday, when he had only to recite them to the little snub-nose,
Henrik did not know the verses, and to-day, the book was in the old
man's hand! If he had merely taken the book in his hands! But with his
disengaged hand he held a ruler with the evident intention of
immediately pulling the boy up, if he made a mistake.

Poor Henrik, of course, did not know a single word. He gazed ever
askance at Father Fromm's ruler, and when he reached the first obstacle,
as the old fellow raised the ruler, probably merely with the intention
of striking Henrik's mental capacity into action by startling him,
Henrik was no more to be seen; he was under the bed, where he had
managed to hide his long body with remarkable agility; nor would he come
forth until Father Fromm promised he would not hurt him, and would take
him to breakfast.

And Father Fromm kept the conditions of the armistice, only verbally
denouncing the boy as he wriggled out of his fortress; I did not
understand what he said, I only gathered by his grimaces and gestures
that he was annoyed over the matter--by my presence.

The morning was spent in visiting professors. The director was a
strongly-built, bony-faced, moustached man, with a high, bald forehead,
broad-chested, and when he spoke, he did not spare his voice, but always
talked as if he were preaching. He was very well satisfied with our
school certificates, and made no secret of it. He assured grandmother he
would take care of us and deal severely with us. He would not allow us
to go astray in this town. He would often visit us at our homes; that
was his custom; and any student convicted of disorderliness would be
punished.

"Are the boys musicians?" he asked grandmother in harsh tones.

"Oh, yes; the one plays the piano, the other the violin."

The director struck the middle of the table with his fist: "I am
sorry--but I cannot allow violin playing under any circumstances."

Lorand ventured to ask, "Why not?"

"Why not, indeed? Because that is the fountain-head of all mischief. The
book, not the violin, is for the student. What do you wish to be? a
gypsy, or a scholar? The violin betrays students into every kind of
mischief. How do I know? Why, I see examples of it every day. The
student takes the violin under his coat, and goes with it to the inn,
where he plays for other students who dance