A Day of Punishment 



and gorgeous pigment, the artist-monk had 

 given rein to the pent passions and power 

 of his nature ; and I laughed, for at that 

 very moment there leapt within me the 

 memory of myself as a small imp writing 

 that copy, letting out my mute embittered 

 soul in deep-dug curves and spider-fine up- 

 strokes, and curl within curl of the capital 

 letters, and with as many a touch of cari- 

 cature as I dared in that demon-possessed 

 mood run to. 



To a child whose whole person aches with 

 recent chastisement, w^hose heart is unutter- 

 ably full, and whose stomach lamentably 

 empty, a few hours of morning and after- 

 noon spent in the atmosphere of public 

 disorrace, seem a whole agre. I be^an to 

 w^onder, in a rather light-headed fashion, 

 whether we had been in school about 

 tw^elve hours, or if it were not really to- 

 morrow, and if this awful day would ever 

 come to an end. And then I became con- 

 scious of the well-known scuffling and shuf- 

 fling w^hich always accompanied break-up, 

 and a few minutes later I was alone again 

 with the tick of the clock and Mercator's 

 Projection. I pressed my forehead against 

 the desk in front of me, but found it diffi- 

 cult to think for the singing in my ears. 



*' Papa w^ants to speak to you in the 

 ^53 



