The log cabin Democrat., 1909-10-21

I realized that he must depart, that I should never see him again, the pun ishmontS, the cuts had received from his ruler. were forgotten. Poor man! It is to the honor of the class on this last day that they were on their best behavior
 Soon I comprehended why the cid CTS of the village had come to sit at the end of the room; it was as if to express regret at not having visited the school more often; it was, too, Q way of rewarding our master for his 40 years of good service. and of pay. ing their respects to the fatherlano to which he was going.
 In the midst oI my meditations l | heard my name called 1t was my tu1n to recite. What would I not have giv- en to be able to repeat, loud and with out a mistake the whole of that fa- nous rule for the participles! But bunged the first words, and stood wriggling in my place, heavy-hearted, not daring to raise my head. Then l heard NJ. Hamel speak to me:
 T will not reproach you, my boy; you are sufficiently punished as it is. You see now how 1t is; you have said to yourself day by day: oh. l have | plenty of time; I will learn it to-mor , row. and then you see what tomor- row brings when it comes. An, that | has been the great misfortune of our | Alsace, putting off it's instruction un- til tomorrow. And soon it will be just l for them to say to us: What, you pretend to be French, when you can neither speak nor write your own | language!'
 But with it all, you are no worse | than the rest of us; we all deserve full share of the blame. Your par ents have not been sufficiently anxious to have you educated They have pre- ierred the sous you could make by working in the fields or the factories. And for my part I reproach myself; | l reproach myself for making you so often water my garden when you should have been studying, and for not hesitating to give you holiday when l wanted to go fishing"
 And then NJ. Hamel spoke to us of the French language, point by point, saying that it was the most beautiful language in the world, the most ex- pressive the most virile that it be. hooved us to preserve it among us and never to forget it.
 The lesson finished we took up wri- ting. For this day, M Hamel had pre-. | y1hi iph was written in beautiful round hand, France, Alsace. France. Alsace:" these were made in the shape of lit tie flags, which were hung from the rods of our desks, and so floated on all sides of the class. You should have seen how everyone applied him. self. And such silence! one could hear nothing but the scratching of pens upon paper. Even when cock chafers buzzed into the room no one paid any attention to them, not even the smallest children, who applied themselves as industriously as though their pot-hooks were also French.
 Upon the roof of the school the pi. geons cooed softly. Will not they
 
 self as I listened.
 When I raised my eyes from the page in front of me from time to time. I saw NJ, Hamel sitting motionless in his seat gazing long at the objects about him, as though he would take away in his memory all the little schoolhouse. Think of it, for 70 years he had been there in the same place opposite his courtyard. facing classroom which had ! changed in appearance only in that 1 the benches and desks had become shiny. polished by use. The walnut 1 trees in the courtyard had grown, and the hopvine he had planted himself 1 had by this time festooned the win dows up to the roof. What heart breaking thing it must have been for the poor man to turn his back on all these things, and to hear his sister walking to and fro in the room be- yond. packing their baggage, for they must go away tomorrow forever.
 Nevertheless, he had the courage to keep the class up to the last moment. After the writing exercise, we had our history lesson; and then the little chil- 1 dren sang their "ba. be, bi, bo. bu" in ! concert And old Hauser, who sat at l the end of the room, putting on his spectacles and holding his primer with both hands, repeated the letters 1 with them. One could see that he was in deadly earnest; but his voice quiv- cred so with emotion. and it was so droll to hear him. that we hardly knew whether to laugh or to weep. ! An. shall never forget that last class.
 Suddenly the church clock struck midday. then the Angelus. At the same moment the trumpet-call of the | Prussians, who were returning from 1 their drill. burst through our windows. i M Hamel raised himself deathly pale, in his seat. Never had he seemed so grand,
 My friends said he; my friends. l I-I-'