d sawmill. He would
_so_ much rather have played truant! Besides, this was the day for the
lesson in the rule of participles; and the rule of participles in French
is very, very long, and very hard, and it has more exceptions than rule.
Little Franz did not know it at all. He did not want to go to school.

But, somehow, he went. His legs carried him reluctantly into the village
and along the street. As he passed the official bulletin-board before the
town hall, he noticed a little crowd round it, looking at it. That was the
place where the news of lost battles, the requisition for more troops, the
demands for new taxes were posted. Small as he was, little Franz had seen
enough to make him think, "What _now_, I wonder?" But he could not stop to
see; he was afraid of being late.

When he came to the school-yard his heart beat very fast; he was afraid he
_was_ late, after all, for the windows were all open, and yet he heard no
noise,--the schoolroom was perfectly quiet. He had been counting on the
noise and confusion before school,--the slamming of desk covers, the
banging of books, the tapping of the master's cane and his "A little less
noise, please,"--to let him slip quietly into his seat unnoticed. But no;
he had to open the door and walk up the long aisle, in the midst of a
silent room, with the master looking straight at him. Oh, how hot his
cheeks felt, and how hard his heart beat! But to his great surprise the
master didn't scold at all. All he said was, "Come quickly to your place,
my little Franz; we were just going to begin without you!"

Little Franz could hardly believe his ears; that wasn't at all the way the
master was accustomed to speak. It was very strange! Somehow--everything
was very strange. The room looked queer. Everybody was sitting so still,
so straight--as if it were an exhibition day, or something very
particular. And the master--he looked strange, too; why, he had on his
fine lace jabot and his best coat, that he wore only on holidays, and his
gold snuff-box in his hand. Certainly it was very odd. Little Franz looked
all round, wondering. And there in the back of the room was the oddest
thing of all. There, on a bench, sat _visitors_. Visitors! He could not
make it out; people never came except on great occasions,--examination
days and such. And it was not a holiday. Yet there were the agent, the
old blacksmith, the farmer, sitting quiet and still. It was very, very
strange.

Just then the ma