The Pupil Teacher: Avignon 



divests himself of a portion of his dangerous rai- 

 ment. Those of us who possess the smartest clothes 

 lend him something to put on so that he can go 

 home decently. 



One of the tall, funnel-shaped glasses which I 

 was admiring just now is standing, full of am- 

 monia, on the table. All, coughing and snivelling, 

 dip their handkerchiefs into it and rub the moist 

 rag over their hats and coats. In this way the 

 red stains left by the horrible compound are made 

 to disappear. A drop of ink will presently restore 

 the colour completely. 



And the oxygen? There was no more question, 

 I need hardly say, of that. The feast of learning 

 was over. Never mind : the disastrous lesson was 

 a mighty event for me. I had been inside the 

 chemist's laboratory; I had had a glimpse of those 

 wonderful jars and tubes. In teaching what mat- 

 ters most is not the thing taught, whether well 

 or badly grasped: it is the stimulus given to the 

 pupil's latent aptitudes; it is the fulminate awak- 

 ing the slumbering explosives. One day, I shall 

 obtain on my own account that oxygen which ill- 

 luck has denied me; one day, without a master, 

 I shall yet learn chemistry. I do not recommend 

 that method to anybody. Happy the man who is 

 guided by a master's word and example! He has 

 a smooth and easy road before him, lying straight 

 ahead. The other follows a rugged path, in which 

 his feet often stumble; he goes groping into the 

 unknown and loses his way. To recover the right 

 road, if want of success have not discouraged him, 



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