The Professor: Avignon 



suspected a proposal to promote me to a more im- 

 portant grammar-school, and wrote begging that I 

 might be left where I was, among my vats and my 

 insects. A second letter arrived, more pressing 

 than the first and signed by the minister's own 

 hand. This letter said: 



" Come at once, or I shall send my gendarmes 

 to fetch you." 



There was no way out of it. Twenty-four hours 

 later I was in M. Duruy's room. He welcomed 

 me with exquisite cordiality, gave me his hand and, 

 taking up a number of the Moniteur: 



" Read that," he said. " You refused my chem- 

 ical apparatus; but you won't refuse this." 



I looked at the line to which his finger pointed. 

 I read my name in the list of the Legion of Honour. 

 Quite stupid with surprise, I stammered the first 

 words of thanks that entered my head. 



" Come here," said he, " and let me give you 

 the accolade. I will be your sponsor. You will 

 like the ceremony all the better if it is held in pri- 

 vate, between you and me : I know you ! " 



He pinned the red ribbon to my coat, kissed me 

 on both cheeks, made me telegraph the great event 

 to my family. What a morning, spent with that 

 good man! 



I well know the vanity of decorative ribbonry 

 and tinware, especially when, as too often hap- 

 pens, intrigue degrades the honour conferred; but, 

 coming as it did, that bit of ribbon is precious to 

 me. It is a relic, not an object for show. I keep 

 it religiously in a drawer. 



177 



