of love。 Whereupon my young friend very properly prepares to punch the head of the boy at the cigar emporium next door； but fails in the attempt； the boy at the cigar emporium next door punching his instead。
And then comes school life； with its bitter little sorrows and its joyous shoutings； its jolly larks； and its hot tears falling on beastly Latin grammars and silly old copy…books。 It is at school that he injures himself for lifeas I firmly believetrying to pronounce German； and it is there； too； that he learns of the importance attached by the French nation to pens； ink； and paper。 〃Have you pens； ink； and paper？〃 is the first question asked by one Frenchman of another on their meeting。 The other fellow has not any of them； as a rule； but says that the uncle of his brother has got them all three。 The first fellow doesn't appear to care a hang about the uncle of the other fellow's brother； what he wants to know now is； has the neighbor of the other fellow's mother got 'em？ 〃The neighbor of my mother has no pens； no ink； and no paper；〃 replies the other man； beginning to get wild。 〃Has the child of thy female gardener some pens； some ink； or some paper？〃 He has him there。 After worrying enough about these wretched inks； pens； and paper to make everybody miserable； it turns out that the child of his own female gardener hasn't any。 Such a discovery would shut up any one but a French exercise man。 It has no effect at all； though； on this shameless creature。 He never thinks of apologizing； but says his aunt has some mustard。
So in the acquisition of more or less useless knowledge； soon happily to be forgotten； boyhood passes away。 The red…brick school…house fades from view； and we turn down into the world's high…road。 My little friend is no longer little now。 The short jacket has sprouted tails。 The battered cap； so useful as a combination of pocket…handkerchief； drinking…cup； and weapon of attack； has grown high and glossy； and instead of a slate…pencil in his mouth there is a cigarette； the smoke of which troubles him； for it will get up his nose。 He tries a cigar a little later on as being more stylisha big black Havanna。 It doesn't seem altogether to agree with him； for I find him sitting over a bucket in the back kitchen afterward； solemnly swearing never to smoke again。
And now his mustache begins to be almost visible to the naked eye； whereupon he immediately takes to brandy…and…sodas and fancies himself a man。 He talks about 〃two to one against the favorite；〃 refers to actresses as 〃Little Emmy〃 and 〃Kate〃 and 〃Baby；〃 and murmurs about his 〃losses at cards the other night〃 in a style implying that thousands have been squandered； though； to do him justice； the actual amount is most probably one…and…twopence。 Also； if I see arightfor it is always twilight in this land of memorieshe sticks an eyeglass in his eye and stumbles over everything。
His female relations； much troubled at these things； pray for him （bless their gentle hearts！） and see visions of Old Bailey trials and halters as the only possible outcome of such reckless dissipation； and the prediction of his first school…master； that he would come to a bad end； assumes the proportions of inspired prophecy。
He has a lordly contempt at this age for the other sex； a blatantly good opinion of himself； and a sociably patronizing manner toward all the elderly male friends of the family。 Altogether； it must be confessed； he is somewhat of a nuisance about this time。
It does not last long； though。 He falls in love in a little while； and that soon takes the bounce out of him。 I notice his boots are much too small for him now； and his hair is fearfully and wonderfully arranged。 He reads poetry more than he used； and he keeps a rhyming dictionary in his bedroom。 Every morning Emily Jane finds scraps of torn…up paper on the floor and reads thereon of 〃cruel hearts and love's deep darts；〃 of 〃beauteous eyes and lovers' sighs；〃 and much more of the old； old song that lads so love to sing and lassies love to listen to while giving their dainty heads a toss and pretending never to hear。
The course of love； however； seems not to have run smoothly； for later on he takes more walking exercise and less sleep； poor boy； than is good for him； and his face is suggestive of anything but wedding…bells and happiness ever after。
And here he seems to vanish。 The little； boyish self that has grown up beside me as we walked is gone。
I am alone and the road is very dark。 I stumble on； I know not how nor care； for the way seems leading nowhere； and there is no light to guide。
But at last the morning comes； and I find that I have grown into myself。
THE END。