Zounds! the thing was easier said than done.

“Put more enthusiasm into your greeting to papa Dugrand!”

The greater my enthusiasm, the more laughable was my awkwardness.

“See here; watch my movements carefully!”

“I do watch, but I don’t know how to go to work to imitate you; I don’t seize the details of your gesture.” (It varied with every repetition.) “I don’t understand why your examples, with which I am satisfied, lead to nothing in me.”

“You don’t understand!  You don’t understand!  It’s very simple!  Really, your wits must have gone wool-gathering, my poor boy, if you are unable to do what I have shown you so many times.  Watch closely now!”

“I am watching, sir, with all my eyes.”

“You certainly see that the first thing is to stretch out your arms to your papa Dugrand, since you are so pleased to see him again!”

I stretched out my arms to their utmost extent; but my body, not following the movement, still wanted poise, and recoiled into a grotesque attitude.  My teacher, for lack of basic principles to guide him, was unable to correct my awkwardness; and, vexed at his inability which he wished to conceal, fell back on blaming my unlucky intellect.

“Fool,” said he finally, “you are hopelessly stupid!  Why are you so embarrassed?  Are my examples, then, worthless?”

“Indeed, sir, your examples are perfect.”

“Well, then, imitate them, imbecile!”

“I will try, sir.”

In this, as in all preceding lessons, I could give only a blind imitation, which had not the small merit of being twice alike, even in my own eyes, for every time I reproduced them I observed marked variations which the master did not perceive.

I went to my room, as I had done many times before, with tears in my eyes and despair in my heart, to renew my useless efforts, vainly turning and returning in all lights my unfortunate papa Dugrand.

This cruel ordeal lasted five months without the least progress to lessen its bitterness.

Heaven knows with what ardor I cultivated my papa Dugrand!  I thought of him by day, and I dreamed of him by night.  I clung to him with all the frenzy of despair, for I was determined not to be beaten.  I was bound to triumph at any cost, for it was life or death to me.  I resolved not to give up papa Dugrand, even though he should resist me ten years!

My unceasing repetitions of (to them abominable) papa Dugrand caused my comrades to call me a bore.  In short, I became disagreeable to all around me.  Alas! all this study, all these efforts, could not overcome the stubborn resistance of papa Dugrand.  My teachers were at their wits’ end, and finally refused to give me another lesson on the subject.  But nothing could daunt the ardor of my zeal.

One day I was measuring the court-yard of the Conservatory, as usual, in company with papa Dugrand, and repeating my “how are you?” in every variety of tone, when, all at once, having got as far as:  “How are you, pa—­,” I stopped short without finishing my phrase.  It was interrupted by the sight of a cousin of mine, whose visit was most unexpected.