the benches, and snapped pellets of paper at each other with the elastics of their garters.
The assistant grasped now one, now another, by the arm, and shook him; and he placed one of them against the wall—time wasted. He no longer knew what to do, and he entreated them. “Why do you behave like this? Do you wish to make me punish you?” Then he thumped the little table with his fist, and shouted in a voice, angry but tearful, “Silence! silence! silence!” It was hard to hear him. But the noise kept getting louder. Franti threw a paper dart at him; some gave cat-calls; others thumped each other on the head. The hurly-burly was indescribable; when, all of a sudden, the beadle entered and said:—
“Signor Master, the principal has sent for you.”
The teacher rose and went out in haste, with a gesture of despair. Then the tumult began more vigorously than ever. But suddenly Garrone sprang up, his face all flaming, his fists clenched, and shouted in a voice choked with rage:—
“Stop this! You are brutes! You take advantage of him because he is kind. II he were to bruise your bones for you, you would be as humble as dogs. You are a pack of cowards! The first one of you that jeers at him again, I shall wait for outside, and I shall break his teeth for him,—I swear it,—even under his father's very eyes!”
All grew silent. Ah, what a fine thing it was to see Garrone, with his eyes darting flames! He seemed to be a furious young lion. He stared at the most daring, one after the other, and all hung their heads.
