There is another advantage to be gained from our games in the dark.  But if these games are to be a success I cannot speak too strongly of the need for gaiety.  Nothing is so gloomy as the dark:  do not shut your child up in a dungeon, let him laugh when he goes, into a dark place, let him laugh when he comes out, so that the thought of the game he is leaving and the games he will play next may protect him from the fantastic imagination which might lay hold on him.

There comes a stage in life beyond which we progress backwards.  I feel I have reached this stage.  I am, so to speak, returning to a past career.  The approach of age makes us recall the happy days of our childhood.  As I grow old I become a child again, and I recall more readily what I did at ten than at thirty.  Reader, forgive me if I sometimes draw my examples from my own experience.  If this book is to be well written, I must enjoy writing it.

I was living in the country with a pastor called M. Lambercier.  My companion was a cousin richer than myself, who was regarded as the heir to some property, while I, far from my father, was but a poor orphan.  My big cousin Bernard was unusually timid, especially at night.  I laughed at his fears, till M. Lambercier was tired of my boasting, and determined to put my courage to the proof.  One autumn evening, when it was very dark, he gave me the church key, and told me to go and fetch a Bible he had left in the pulpit.  To put me on my mettle he said something which made it impossible for me to refuse.

I set out without a light; if I had had one, it would perhaps have been even worse.  I had to pass through the graveyard; I crossed it bravely, for as long as I was in the open air I was never afraid of the dark.

As I opened the door I heard a sort of echo in the roof; it sounded like voices and it began to shake my Roman courage.  Having opened the door I tried to enter, but when I had gone a few steps I stopped.  At the sight of the profound darkness in which the vast building lay I was seized with terror and my hair stood on end.  I turned, I went out through the door, and took to my heels.  In the yard I found a little dog, called Sultan, whose caresses reassured me.  Ashamed of my fears, I retraced my steps, trying to take Sultan with me, but he refused to follow.  Hurriedly I opened the door and entered the church.  I was hardly inside when terror again got hold of me and so firmly that I lost my head, and though the pulpit was on the right, as I very well knew, I sought it on the left, and entangling myself among the benches I was completely lost.  Unable to find either pulpit or door, I fell into an indescribable state of mind.  At last I found the door and managed to get out of the church and run away as I had done before, quite determined never to enter the church again except in broad daylight.