The Life of the Fly 



biscuit, was followed by heavier and less di- 

 gestible fare. But, for the moment, I had no 

 foretaste of the future difficulties, of the pit- 

 fall in which one becomes more and more 

 entangled, the longer one persists in strug- 

 gling. What a delightful afternoon that was, 

 before my grate, amid my permutations and 

 combinations! By the evening, I had nearly 

 mastered my subject. When the bell rang, 

 at seven, to summon us to the common meal 

 at the principal's table, I went downstairs 

 puffed up with the joys of the newly-initiated 

 neophyte. I was escorted on my way by a, 

 b and c, intertwined in cunning garlands. 



Next day, my pupil is there. Blackboard 

 and chalk, everything is ready. Not quite so 

 ready is the master. I bravely broach my 

 binomial theorem. My hearer becomes in- 

 terested in the combinations of letters. Not 

 for a moment does he suspect that I am put- 

 ting the cart before the horse and beginning 

 where we ought to have finished. I relieve 

 the dryness of my explanations with a few 

 little problems, so many halts at which the 

 mind takes breath awhile and gathers strength 

 for fresh flights. 



We try together. Discreetly, so as to leave 

 him the merit of the discovery, I shed a little 



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