our class—for he was clever, that must be admitted—and he was fond of games, horseplay, and fighting. That’s why he was with us. So as we—there were quite ten of us—stood, at a fair distance from the booth, looking at the Greek girl, and deliberated how we should manage to make her acquaintance, we decided to put together our money in order to buy something at the booth. But then the dilemma was to find the bold boy who would dare to speak to the girl. Everyone wanted to, but no one dared. We drew lots and the task fell to me. Now I fully admit that I am not fond of facing dangers. I am a husband and a father, and I look on everyone who seeks danger as a fool, and so it says in the Scriptures also. It is indeed a pleasure to me to notice how in my opinions about danger and such-like things, I have been consistent all my life, as even now I still hold exactly the same opinion about these things as I did on that evening when I stood there at the booth of the Greek, with the twelve pence we had put together in my hand. But, unfortunately, through false shame I durst not say that I durst not, and besides, I was simply forced to go forward, for my mates pushed me, and soon I stood in front of the booth.
I did not see the girl: I saw nothing! Everything seemed to turn green and yellow before my eyes. I stammered an aoristus primus of I know not what verb. . . .
“Plait-il?” she said.
I recovered a little, and continued:
“Menin aeide thea,” and . . . that Egypt was a gift of the Nile.
I am convinced that I should have succeeded in making her acquaintance, if at that moment one of the fellows in childish mischief had not given me such a push in the back that I collided roughly with the counter, which, to half the height of a man, shut off the front of the booth. I felt my neck gripped . . . a second grip, much lower down. . . . I floated in the air for a moment . . . and before I understood clearly what was the matter, I was inside the booth of the Greek, who told me in intelligible French
