The Schoolmaster: Carpentras 



and embeds itself in the glass which has suddenly 

 grown soft. This metallic tear, with its indomit- 

 able heat, makes every one of us shudder. They 

 stamp and cheer and applaud. The timid ones 

 place their hands before their faces and dare not 

 look except through their fingers. My audience 

 exults; and I myself triumph. Ha, my friend, isn't 

 it grand, this chemistry! 



All of us have red-letter days in our lives. Some, 

 the practical men, have been successful in business; 

 they have made money and hold their heads high 

 in consequence. Others, the thinkers, have gained 

 ideas; they have opened a new account in the ledger 

 of nature and silently taste the hallowed joys of 

 truth. One of my great days was that of my first 

 acquaintance with oxygen. On that day, when my 

 class was over and all the materials put back in 

 their place, I felt myself grow several inches taller. 

 An untrained workman, I had shown, with com- 

 plete success, that which was unknown to me a 

 couple of hours before. No accident whatever, not 

 even the least stain of acid. 



It is, therefore, not so difficult nor so dangerous 

 as the pitiful finish of the Saint-Martial lesson 

 might have led me to believe. With a vigilant 

 eye and a little prudence, I shall be able to con- 

 tinue. The prospect is enchanting. 



And so, in due season, comes hydrogen, carefully 

 contemplated in my reading, seen and reseen with 

 the eye of the mind before being seen with the 

 eyes of the body. I delight my little rascals by 

 making the hydrogen-flame sing in a glass tube, 



93 



