While I was wondering about it all, Mr. Hamel mounted his chair, and, in the same grave and gentle tone which he had used to me, said, "My children, this is the last lesson I shall give you.

The order has come from Berlin to teach only German in the schools of Alsace and Lorraine. The new master comes tomorrow.

This is your last French lesson. I want you to be very attentive." What a thunderclap these words were to me! Oh, the wretches; that was what they had put up at the town-hall!

My last French lesson!

Why, I hardly knew how to write! I should never learn any more! I must stop there, then!

Oh, how sorry I was for not learning my lessons, for seeking birds' eggs, or going sliding on the Saar!

My books, that had seemed such a nuisance a while ago, so heavy to carry, my grammar, and my history of the saints, were old friends now that I couldn't give up.

And Mr. Hamel, too; the idea that he was going away, that I should never see him again, made me forget all about his ruler and how cranky he was.

Poor man!

It was in honour of this last lesson that he had put on his fine Sunday clothes, and now I understood why the old men of the village were sitting there in the back of the room.