and subtract them one from the other was more or less familiar
work. On Saturday evenings, to finish up the week, there was a general
orgy of sums. The top boy stood up and, in a loud voice, recited the
multiplication table up to twelve times. I say twelve times, for in
those days, because of our old duodecimal measures, it was the custom to
count as far as the twelve times table, instead of the ten times of the
metric system. When this recital was over, the whole class, the little
ones included, took it up in chorus, creating such an uproar that chicks
and porkers took to flight if they happened to be there. And this went
on to twelve times twelve, the first in the row starting the next table
and the whole class repeating it as loud as it could yell. Of all that
we were taught in school, the multiplication table was what we knew
best, for this noisy method ended by dinning the different numbers
into our ears. This does not mean that we became skilful reckoners. The
cleverest of us easily got muddled with the figures to be carried in a
multiplication sum. As for division, rare indeed were they who reached
such heights. In short, the moment a problem, however insignificant, had
to be solved, we had recourse to mental gymnastics much rather than to
the learned aid of arithmetic.

When all is said, our master was an excellent man who could have kept
school very well but for his lack of one thing; and that was time. He
devoted to us all the little leisure which his numerous functions
left him. And, first of all, he managed the property of an absentee
landowner, who only occasionally set foot in the village. He had under
his care an old castle with four towers, which had become so many pigeon
houses; he directed the getting in of the hay, the walnuts, the apples
and the oats. We used to help him during the summer, when the school,
which was well attended in winter, was almost deserted. All that
remained, because they were not yet big enough to work in the fields,
were a few children, including him who was one day to set down these
memorable facts. Lessons at that time were less dull. They were often
given on the hay or on the straw; oftener still, lesson time was spent
in cleaning out the dovecote or stamping on the snails that had sallied
in rainy weather from their fortresses, the tall box borders of the
garden belonging to the castle.

Our master was a barber. With his light hand, which was so clever at
beautifying our c