en he met me, called me a "chicken."

During the time that they were all trying to persuade me to stay at
Varses, Mattia became very preoccupied and thoughtful. I questioned him,
but he always answered that nothing was the matter. It was not until I
told him that we were starting off on our tramps in three days' time,
that he admitted the cause of his sadness.

"Oh, I thought that you would stay and that you would leave me," he
said.

I gave him a good slap, so as to teach him not to doubt me.

Mattia was quite able to look after himself now. While I was down in the
mine he had earned eighteen francs. He was very proud when he handed me
this large sum, for with the hundred and twenty-eight that we already
had, this made a total of one hundred and forty-six francs. We only
wanted four francs more to be able to buy the Prince's cow.

"Forward! March! Children!" With baggage strapped on our back we set
forth on the road, with Capi barking and rolling in the dust for joy.

Mattia suggested that we get a little more money before buying the cow;
the more money we had, the better the cow, and the better the cow, the
more pleased Mother Barberin would be.

While tramping from Paris to Varses I had begun to give Mattia reading
lessons and elementary music lessons. I continued, these lessons now.
Either I was not a good teacher, which was quite possible, or Mattia was
not a good pupil, which also was quite possible; the lessons were not a
success. Often I got angry and, shutting the book with a bang, told him
that he was a thickhead.

"That's true," he said, smiling; "my head is only soft when it's banged.
Garofoli found out that!"

How could one keep angry at this reply. I laughed and we went on with
the lessons. But with music, from the beginning, he made astonishing
progress. In the end, he so confused me with his questions, that I was
obliged to confess that I could not teach him any more. This confession
mortified me exceedingly. I had been a very proud professor, and it was
humiliating for me not to be able to answer my pupil's questions. And he
did not spare me, oh, no!

"I'd like to go and take one lesson from a real master," he said, "only
just one, and I'll ask him all the questions that I want answered."

"Why didn't you take this lesson from a real master while I was in the
mine?"

"Because I didn't want to take what he would charge out of your money."

I was hurt when Mattia had spoken thus of a _real_