"_Janvier_," answered the pupil, promptly.
"Ah! very well, very well, indeed, _ma chere_--for once, you know the first word of your lesson. Ah! to-day I have, indeed, great hope of you.
Come, now, February?"
"_Fevrier_," said little Anne.
"Excellent! excellent! you know the second word too--and now, then, March?"
"Marsh."
"Ah! no, no--but I am old; perhaps I did not rightly hear. Repeat, _ma chere enfant_,[36] repeat."
[Footnote 36: My dear child.]
"Marsh," cried little Anne in a very loud voice.
"Ah! you are wrong; but I will pardon you--you have said two words right. _Mars, ma chere, Mars_ is the French for March the month. Come now, April."
"Aprile."
"Aprile! there is no such word as Aprile--_Avril_. And now tell me, what is May?"
"_Mai._"
"Excellent! excellent! capital! _magnifique!_ you said that word _parfaitement bien_.[37] Now let us proceed--June."
[Footnote 37: Perfectly well.]
"Juney."
"Ah! no, no--_Juin, ma chere, Juin_--but I will excuse you. Now, tell me July."
Little Anne could make no answer.
"Ah! I fear--I begin to fear you. Are you not growing bad?"
"_Oui, Monsieur_," said little Anne.
"Come then; I will tell you this once--_Juillet_ is the French for July.
Now, tell me what is August?"
"Augoost!"
"Augoost! Augoost! there is no such a word. Why, you are very bad, indeed--_Aout, Aout, Aout_."
The manner in which Mr. Ravigote vociferated this rather uncouth word, roused Uncle Philip from his newspaper and his rocking-chair, and mistaking it for a howl of pain, he started up and exclaimed, "Hallo!"
Mr. Ravigote turned round in amazement, and Uncle Philip continued, "Hey, what's the matter? Has anything hurt you? I thought I heard a howl."
"Dear uncle," said little Anne, "Mr. Ravigote is not howling; he is only saying August in French."
Uncle Philip bit his lip and resumed his paper. Mr. Ravigote proceeded, "September?" and his pupil repeated in a breath, as if she was afraid to stop an instant lest she should forget--
"Septembre, Octobre, Novembre, Decembre."
"Ah! very well; very well, indeed," exclaimed Mr. Ravigote; "you have said these four words _comme il faut_;[38] but it must be confessed they are not much difficult."
[Footnote 38: Properly].
He then proceeded with the remainder of her vocabulary lesson; but in vain--not another word did she say that had the least affinity to the right one. "Ah!" said he, "_je suis au desespoir_;[39] I much expected of you this day, but you have overtumbled all my hopes. _Je suis abime._"[40]
[Footnote 39: I am in despair.]
[Footnote 40: "I am thrown in an abyss of grief," is perhaps nearest the meaning of this very French expression.]
"_Oui, Monsieur_, said little Anne.
"You are one _mauvais sujet_,"[41] pursued the teacher, beginning to lose his patience; "punishment is all that you merit. _Mais allons, essayons encore._"[42]
[Footnote 41: Bad person--bad child.]
[Footnote 42: But come, let us try again.]
Just at that moment the string of little Anne's beads (at which she had been pulling during the whole lesson) broke suddenly in two, and the beads began to shower down, a few into her lap, but most of them on the floor.
"_Oh! quel dommage!_"[43] exclaimed Mr. Ravigote; "_Mais n'importe, laissez-les_,[44] and continue your lesson."
[Footnote 43: Oh! what a pity!]
[Footnote 44: But no matter--let them alone.]
But poor Mr. Ravigote found it impossible to make the little girl pay the slightest attention to him while her beads were scattered on the floor; and his only alternative was to stoop down and help her to pick them up. Uncle Philip raised his eyes from the paper, and said, "Never mind the beads, my dear; finish the lesson, and I will buy you a new coral necklace to-morrow, and a much prettier one than that."
Little Anne instantly rose from the floor, and whisking into her chair, prepared to resume her lesson with alacrity.
"_Eh! bien_," said the teacher, "now we will start off again, and read the inside of a book. Come, here is the fable of the fox and the grapes.
These are the fables that we read during the _ancien regime_; there are none so good now."
Mr. Ravigote then proceeded to read with her, translating as he went on, and making her repeat after him--"A fox of Normandy, (some say of Gascony,) &c., &c. Now, my dear, you must try this day and make a copy of the nasal sounds as you hear them from me. It is in these sounds that you are always the very worst. The nasal sounds are the soul and the life of French speaking."
The teacher bent over the book, and little Anne followed his pronunciation more closely than she had ever done before: he exclaiming at every sentence, "Very well--very well, indeed, my dear. To-day you have the nasal sounds, _comme une ange_."[45]
[Footnote 45: Like an angel.]
But on turning round to pat her head, he perceived that _gentille Annette_ was holding her nose between her thumb and finger, and that it was in this way only she had managed to give him satisfaction with the nasal sounds. He started back aghast, exclaiming--
"_Ah! quelle friponnerie! la petite coquine! Voici un grand acte de fourberie et de mechancete!_[46] So young and so depraved--ah! I fear, I much fear, she will grow up a rogue-a cheat--perhaps a thief. _Je suis glace d'horreur! Je tremble! Je frissonne!_"[47]
[Footnote 46: Ah! what roguery--the little jade! What an instance of imposture and wickedness!]