A Memorable Lesson 



Chemistry was never mentioned either : that 

 goes without saying. I knew the word, how- 

 ever. My casual reading, only half-under- 

 stood for want of practical demonstration, 

 had taught me that chemistry is concerned 

 with the shuffle of matter, uniting or separa- 

 ting the various elements. But what a strange 

 idea I formed of this branch of study! To 

 me it smacked of sorcery, of alchemy and its 

 search for the philosopher's stone. To my 

 mind, every chemist, when at work, should 

 have had a magic wand in his hand and the 

 wizard's pointed, star-studded cap on his head. 



An important personage who sometimes 

 visited the school, in his capacity as an hon- 

 orary lecturer, was not the man to rid me of 

 those foolish notions. He taught physics and 

 chemistry at the grammar-school. Twice a 

 week, from eight to nine o'clock in the even- 

 ing, he held a free public class in an enormous 

 building adjacent to our school-house. This 

 was the former Church of Saint-Martial, 

 which has to-day become a Protestant meet- 

 ing-house. 



It was a wizard's cave certainly, just as I 

 had pictured it. At the top of the steeple, a 

 rusty weathercock creaked mournfully; in the 

 dusk, great Bats flew all around the edifice or 



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