The word was caught up instantly. All the scholars shouted in chorus: "He is a canary! A canary!"
"I was jeered at and insulted."
Words fail me to describe my bitter disappointment, my burning shame and chagrin. I saw my folly now. But it was too late—the awful deed was done! Worse than all, in order to obtain this now odious jacket, I had spoiled all my other jackets, and had nothing else to wear! When, on the evening of that most miserable day, I told my troubles to my father and mother, they were merely amused, and said to me:—
"It is entirely your own fault. You insisted upon having the jacket, and now you must put up with it!"
Thus was I condemned to the perpetual wearing of my yellow jacket, which entailed upon me no end of petty miseries.
Every day, at school, I was jeered at and insulted. Even the babies of three years—sweet, blue-eyed, golden-haired cherubs—pointed at me with their tiny fingers, and lisped, "Canary! Canary!"
How was I to extricate myself from this extremely unpleasant situation? One upper garment still remained to me—an old, thick, heavy, winter mantle. The idea occurred to me that I might utilize this to conceal my too gorgeous plumage. We were now in the month of June, and the weather was tropical. No matter! In class and playground, I appeared buttoned up in my big cloak, bathed in perspiration, but happy in having hidden my shame.
To Mademoiselle Ermance's expression of surprise, I answered that I had a cold. I did not deviate widely from the truth. Two days later, thanks to this over-heating, I had a very real one.
The device did not serve me long. My parents found me out, and promptly deprived me of my protecting shell, thus obliging me to attend school again in the costume of a canary. The former annoyances re-commenced.
Vacation time was at hand, and Georgette, of whom I was more enamoured than ever, remained still cold and indifferent.
