Usually, when school began, there was a great bustle, which could be heard out in the street, the opening and closing of desks, lessons repeated in unison, very loud, with our hands over our ears to understand better, and the teacher's great ruler rapping on the table.

But now it was all so still!

I had counted on the commotion to get to my desk without being seen; but, of course, that day everything had to be as quiet as Sunday morning.

Through the window I saw my classmates, already in their places, and Mr. Hamel walking up and down with his terrible iron ruler under his arm.

I had to open the door and go in before everybody. You can imagine how I blushed and how frightened I was.

But nothing happened. Mr. Hamel saw me and said very kindly, "Go to your place quickly, little Franz. We were beginning without you." I jumped over the bench and sat down at my desk.

Not till then, when I had got a little over my fright, did I see that our teacher had on his beautiful green coat, his frilled shirt, and the little black silk cap, all embroidered, that he never wore except on inspection and prize days.

Besides, the whole school seemed so strange and solemn.

But the thing that surprised me most was to see, on the back benches that were always empty, the village people sitting quietly like ourselves; old Hauser, with his three-cornered hat, the former mayor, the former postmaster, and several others besides.

Everybody looked sad; and Hauser had brought an old primer, thumbed at the edges, and he held it open on his knees with his great spectacles lying across the pages.