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counting on the noise and confusion before school；the slamming of desk
covers； the banging of books； the tapping of the master's cane and his 〃A
little less noise； please；〃 to let him slip quietly into his seat unnoticed。
But no； he had to open the door and walk up the long aisle； in the midst of
a silent room； with the master looking straight at him。 Oh； how hot his
cheeks felt； and how hard his heart beat！ But to his great surprise the
master didn't scold at all。 All he said was； 〃Come quickly to your place；
my little Franz； we were just going to begin without you！〃
Little Franz could hardly believe his ears； that wasn't at all the way the
master was accustomed to speak。 It was very strange！ Somehow
everything was very strange。 The room looked queer。 Everybody was
sitting so still； so straightas if it were an exhibition day； or something
very particular。 And the master he looked strange； too； why； he had on
his fine lace jabot and his best coat； that he wore only on holidays； and his
gold snuff…box in his hand。 Certainly it was very odd。 Little Franz looked
all round； wondering。 And there in the back of the room was the oddest
thing of all。 There； on a bench； sat VISITORS。 Visitors！ He could not
make it out； people never came except on great occasions；examination
days and such。 And it was not a holiday。 Yet there were the agent； the old
blacksmith； the farmer； sitting quiet and still。 It was very； very strange。
Just then the master stood up and opened school。 He said； 〃My
children； this is the last time I shall ever teach you。 The order has come
from Berlin that henceforth nothing but German shall be taught in the
schools of Alsace and Lorraine。 This is your last lesson in French。 I beg
you； be very attentive。〃
HIS LAST LESSON IN FRENCH！ Little Franz could not believe his
ears； his last lessonah； THAT was what was on the bulletin…board！ It
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flashed across him in an instant。 That was it！ His last lesson in French
and he scarcely knew how to read and writewhy； then； he should never
know how！ He looked down at his books； all battered and torn at the
corners； and suddenly his books seemed quite different to him； they
seemedsomehowlike friends。 He looked at the master； and he seemed
different； too；like a very good friend。 Little Franz began to feel strange
himself。 Just as he was thinking about it； he heard his name called； and he
stood up to recite。
It was the rule of participles。
Oh； what wouldn't he have given to be able to say it of from beginning
to end； exceptions and all； without a blunder！ But he could only stand and
hang his head； he did not know a word of it。 Then through the hot
pounding in his ears he heard the master's voice； it was quite gentle； not at
all the scolding voice he expected。 And it said； 〃I'm not going to punish
you； little Franz。 Perhaps you are punished enough。 And you are not alone
in your fault。 We all do the same thing；we all put off our tasks till to…
morrow。 Andsometimesto… morrow never comes。 That is what it has
been with us。 We Alsatians have been always putting off our education till
the morrow； and now they have a right； those people down there； to say to
us； ‘What！ You call yourselves French； and cannot even read and write the
French language？ Learn German； then！'〃
And then the master spoke to them of the French language。 He told
them how beautiful it was； how clear and musical and reasonable； and he
said that no people could be hopelessly conquered so long as it kept its
language； for the language was the key to its prison…house。 And then he
said he was going to tell them a little about that beautiful language； and he
explained the rule of participles。
And do you know； it was just as simple as A B C！ Little Franz
understood every word。 It was just the same with the rest of the grammar
lesson。 I don't know whether little Franz listened harder； or whether the
master explained better； but it was all quite clear； and simple。
But as they went on with it； and little Franz listened and looked； it
seemed to him that the master was trying to put the whole French
language into their heads in that one hour。 It seemed as if he wanted to
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teach them all he knew； before he went；to give them all he had； in this
last lesson。
From the grammar he went on to the writing lesson。 And for this； quite
new copies had been prepared。 They were written on clean； new slips of
paper； and they were：
France： Alsace。 France： Alsace。
All up and down the aisles they hung out from the desks like little
banners； waving
France： Alsace。 France： Alsace。
And everybody worked with all his might； not a sound could you
hear but the scratching of pens on the 〃France： Alsace。〃
Even the little ones bent over their up and down strokes with their
tongues stuck out to help them work。
After the writing came the reading lesson； and the little ones sang their
ba； be； bi； bo； bu。
Right in the midst of it； Franz heard a curious sound； a big deep voice
mingling with the children's voices。 He turned round； and there； on the
bench in the back of the room； the old blacksmith sat with a big A B C
book open on his knees。 It was his voice Franz had heard。 He was saying
the sounds with the little children；ba； be； bi； bo； bu。 His voice sounded so
odd； with the little voices；so very odd；it made little Franz feel queer。 It
seemed so funny that he thought he would laugh； then he thought he
wouldn't laugh； he felthe felt very queer。
So it went on with the lessons； they had them all。 And then； suddenly；
the town clock struck noon。 And at the same time they heard the tramp of
the Prussians' feet； coming back from drill。
It was time to close school。
The master stood up。 He was very pale。 Little Franz had never seen
him look so tall。 He said： 〃My childrenmy children〃but something
choked him； he could not go on。 Instead he turned and went to the
blackboard and took up a piece of chalk。 And then he wrote； high up； in
big white letters； 〃Vive la France！〃
And he made a little sign to them with his head； 〃That is all； go away。〃
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THE STORY OF CHRISTMAS
There was once a nation which was very powerful； very fortunate；
and very proud。 Its lands were fruitful； its armies were victorious in battle；
and it had strong kings； wise lawgivers； and great poets。 But after a great
many years； everything changed。 The nation had no more strong kings； no
more wise lawgivers； its armies were beaten in battle； and neighbouring
tribes conquered the country and took the fruitful lands； there were no
more poets except a few who made songs of lamentation。 The people had
become a captive and humiliated people； and the bitterest part of all its
sadness was the memory of past greatness。
But in all the years of failure and humiliation； there was one thing
which kept this people from despair； one hope lived in their hearts and
kept them from utter misery。 It was a hope which came from something
one of the great poets of the past had said； in prophecy。 This prophecy was
whispered in the homes of the poor； taught in the churches； repeated from
father to son among the rich； it was like a deep； hidden well of comfort in
a desert of suffering。 The prophecy said that some time a deliverer should
be born for the nation； a new king even stronger than the old ones； mighty
enough to conquer its enemies； set it free； and bring back the splendid
days of old。 This was the hope and expectation all the people looked for；
they waited through the years for the prophecy to come true。
In this nation； in