Page:The Pacific Monthly volumes 1-3.djvu/101

 or treasurer—literally the one who saves—and certainly that official has his art to perfection. The students of the lycee are kept on fixed rations— so many ounces of meat, so many pieces of bread per capita, a bottle of wine for six at dinner, etc. They never eat all they want, and the supposition is that "l'econome" is often responsible for short allowances.

The boys call him "M. Riz-pain-sel," for the cheap articles of diet everlastingly served upon the college tables. Once in a while the boys rebel against M. Riz- pain-sel's fare, break the plates and hoot his minions. The ringleaders are pun- ished, but the fare improves for a few days, until the episode is forgotten on both sides. Next to the administration stand the gown-professors, who reside out- side, and the ushers, who are always with the boys.

A witty Frenchman has said: "If life is short, the days are long." The say- ing proves true in a French lycee, with a day beginning at 5:30 A. M. in fall and spring, and at 6 o'clock in winter, there is ample time to study one's lessons and to get into mischief.

The untiring vigilance of the ushers grows irksome, their eyes always on one from rising till bedtime, never a moment of relaxation. Distrust and dislike naturally grow out of so much suppression, and once in a while this breaks out in open rebellion, but oftener it is manifest in small tricks which tease and worry the life out of an unpopular usher.

The great novelist Alphonse Daudet, who was in his youth usher in one of the lycees, has described most pathetically the agonies he underwent, in his book, "Le Petit Chose."

French boys are not worse than American boys. Both are inclined to mischief if too much restrained, and a life of repression develops their ingenuity for tricks and pranks, some of which are very laughable, though reprehensible.

On one occasion, an usher who was known to be very timid and easily scared, but fond of exercising his petty authority, was chosen by the boys of his room as the victim of a practical joke.

It was a rainy day, and the boys were kept in the study-room during play hours. A boy had in his desk a large alarm clock which was capable of waking a sleeping regiment when wound up to its full capacity. All the boys of the room were secretly informed of the expected event, and warned to keep as still as possible during study hour that evening. Accordingly, just before 7, the silence of thirty or forty boys was as deep and solemn as a church on week-days. Not a pin-fall nor a turning leaf could be heard, and yet nothing on the boys' faces could warn the usher of the storm to come. The silence was, however, ominous, and the usher stroked his beard, looked up from the book he was reading and was wondering what it all meant, when — B-r-r-r! b-r-r-r! off went the alarm, with a clatter loud and long. The usher bounded from his seat as if impelled by a secret spring. The students sprang from their desks uttering exclamations of surprise. In the twink- ling of an eye the scene changed from the most orderly solemnity to the wildest con- fusion. Usher and students were gestic- ulating and speaking at the same time. While the former, pale and frightened, pounced upon a tall, long-haired lad of eighteen and openly accused him of being the prime mover in the mischief, the boy protested his innocence and was sus- tained by his comrades, while the con- fusion continued.

"Silence!" roared the usher. "Silence! You are the guilty party. I know it and I will report you to the censeur."

"I guilty? I guilty, sir?" roared the youth, shaking his wild mane. Then, lowering his voice with mock solemnity, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling, his hand upon his heart: "I guilty, I guilty, sir? The sky is no purer than the depth of my heart!"

Applause and laughter greeted this tragic utterance, but the noise had brought to the doorsill both censeur and surveillant general, and the poet was drawn from his ecstacy, handed over to the drummer and locked in the college prison.

There for two days on a bread-and- water diet he copied hundreds of lines from the Latin poets, and for the rest of the semester he lost the privilege of the monthly outing in town with parents or friends. On the other hand, he became a hero among his fellows, and, upon emerg- ing from his third-story prison, was