“’Your mother is a fool; moreover, it is not a question of your mother.  It is you.  I tell you that I need this money, and I want you to sign this.’

“My mother replied in a firm voice: 

“’I will not sign it.  It is Jean’s fortune.  I shall guard it for him and I will not allow you to squander it with strange women, as you have your own heritage.’

“Then my father, trembling with rage, wheeled round and, seizing his wife by the throat, began to slap her with all his might full in the face with his disengaged hand.

“My mother’s hat fell off, her hair became loosened and fell over her shoulders; she tried to parry the blows, but she could not do so.  And my father, like a madman, kept on striking her.  My mother rolled over on the ground, covering her face with her hands.  Then he turned her over on her back in order to slap her still more, pulling away her hands, which were covering her face.

“As for me, my friend, it seemed as though the world was coming to an end, that the eternal laws had changed.  I experienced the overwhelming dread that one has in presence of things supernatural, in presence of irreparable disasters.  My childish mind was bewildered, distracted.  I began to cry with all my might, without knowing why; a prey to a fearful dread, sorrow, and astonishment.  My father heard me, turned round, and, on seeing me, started toward me.  I believe that he wanted to kill me, and I fled like a hunted animal, running straight ahead into the thicket.

“I ran perhaps for an hour, perhaps for two.  I know not.  Darkness set in.  I sank on the grass, exhausted, and lay there dismayed, frantic with fear, and devoured by a sorrow capable of breaking forever the heart of a poor child.  I was cold, hungry, perhaps.  At length day broke.  I was afraid to get up, to walk, to return home, to run farther, fearing to encounter my father, whom I did not wish to see again.

“I should probably have died of misery and of hunger at the foot of a tree if the park guard had not discovered me and led me home by force.

“I found my parents looking as usual.  My mother alone spoke to me “’How you frightened me, you naughty boy.  I lay awake the whole night.’

“I did not answer, but began to weep.  My father did not utter a single word.

“Eight days later I returned to school.

“Well, my friend, it was all over with me.  I had witnessed the other side of things, the bad side.  I have not been able to perceive the good side since that day.  What has taken place in my mind, what strange phenomenon has warped my ideas, I do not know.  But I no longer had a taste for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire for anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope.  And I always see my poor mother on the ground, in the park, my father beating her.  My mother died some years later; my, father still lives.  I have not seen him since.  Waiter, a ‘bock.’”