Short Stories, vol 8 | Page 9

the subject to him directly. It is rather difficult and delicate, but coming
from you it might seem quite natural."
Mme. Caillard did what he asked her, and M. Rosselin promised to
speak to the minister about it; and then Caillard began to worry him, till
the deputy told him he must make a formal application and put forward
his claims.
"What were his charms?" he said. "He was not even a Bachelor of
Arts." However, he set to work and produced a pamphlet, with the title,
"The People's Right to Instruction," but he could not finish it for want
of ideas.
He sought for easier subjects, and began several in succession. The first
was, "The Instruction of Children by Means of the Eye." He wanted
gratuitous theatres to be established in every poor quarter of Paris for
little children. Their parents were to take them there when they were

quite young, and, by means of a magic lantern, all the notions of human
knowledge were to be imparted to them. There were to be regular
courses. The sight would educate the mind, while the pictures would
remain impressed on the brain, and thus science would, so to say, be
made visible. What could be more simple than to teach universal
history, natural history, geography, botany, zoology, anatomy, etc., etc.,
in this manner?
He had his ideas printed in pamphlets, and sent a copy to each deputy,
ten to each minister, fifty to the President of the Republic, ten to each
Parisian, and five to each provincial newspaper.
Then he wrote on "Street Lending-Libraries." His idea was to have
little pushcarts full of books drawn about the streets. Everyone would
have a right to ten volumes a month in his home on payment of one
sou.
"The people," M. Caillard said, "will only disturb itself for the sake of
its pleasures, and since it will not go to instruction, instruction must
come to it," etc., etc.
His essays attracted no attention, but he sent in his application, and he
got the usual formal official reply. He thought himself sure of success,
but nothing came of it.
Then he made up his mind to apply personally. He begged for an
interview with the Minister of Public Instruction, and he was received
by a young subordinate, who was very grave and important, and kept
touching the knobs of electric bells to summon ushers, and footmen,
and officials inferior to himself. He declared to M. Caillard that his
matter was going on quite favorably, and advised him to continue his
remarkable labors, and M. Caillard set at it again.
M. Rosselin, the deputy, seemed now to take a great interest in his
success, and gave him a lot of excellent, practical advice. He, himself,
was decorated, although nobody knew exactly what he had done to
deserve such a distinction.
He told Caillard what new studies he ought to undertake; he introduced
him to learned societies which took up particularly obscure points of
science, in the hope of gaining credit and honors thereby; and he even
took him under his wing at the ministry.
One day, when he came to lunch with his friend--for several months
past he had constantly taken his meals there--he said to him in a

whisper as he shook hands: "I have just obtained a great favor for you.
The Committee of Historical Works is going to intrust you with a
commission. There are some researches to be made in various libraries
in France."
Caillard was so delighted that he could scarcely eat or drink, and a
week later he set out. He went from town to town, studying catalogues,
rummaging in lofts full of dusty volumes, and was hated by all the
librarians.
One day, happening to be at Rouen, he thought he should like to go and
visit his wife, whom he had not seen for more than a week, so he took
the nine o'clock train, which would land him at home by twelve at
night.
He had his latchkey, so he went in without making any noise, delighted
at the idea of the surprise he was going to give her. She had locked
herself in. How tiresome! However, he cried out through the door:
"Jeanne, it is I!"
She must have been very frightened, for he heard her jump out of her
bed and speak to herself, as if she were in a dream. Then she went to
her dressing room, opened and closed the door, and went quickly up
and down her room barefoot two or three times, shaking the furniture
till the vases and glasses sounded. Then at last she asked:
"Is it you, Alexander?"
"Yes, yes," he replied; "make haste and open the door."
As soon as she had done so, she threw herself into