Gargantua did not mind in the least. It meant new playthings for him. For, since there were no printed books in those days, Gargantua had first of all to learn to write books of his own. So Grangousier had made for him a great blank book about an acre square, a pen-holder as long as the pillar of Enay, and a horn that would hold a whole black lake of ink.
Master Holofernes would stand on the writing-desk and make his little, correct letters down in one corner of the book. Then Gargantua would take his pen and splash and scrawl and scratch in great lines and arcs all over the huge pages. Each letter Gargantua made, in fact, was so big that poor Holofernes had to look at it through a reducing glass to see the whole of it at once. All this took some time of course, but Grangousier was hugely pleased when, in thirteen years, six months and two weeks after he began, Gargantua could make any letter in the alphabet.
Then began the Latin. For thirty-four years Master Holofernes read to him out of the most learned books, and Gargantua was supposed to write down, in his own, every word that he heard. But by this time, I am sorry to say, Gargantua was a little tired of study, and though he scribbled busily enough, instead of writing Latin words, he drew pictures of elephants and camels and lions and tigers. And old Master Holofernes, who did not look over the work with the glass till long after, was none the wiser. As for King Grangousier and his friends, Gargantua had one Latin piece that he could recite either backwards or forwards for them, and they all vowed that his learning was wonderful.
Everything was going happily enough when one day there came a guest to Grangousier’s table who knew something about Latin. When he saw how much Gargantua had learned in all his years of study, his eyes twinkled.
“How would it be,” said he to Grangousier, “if to-night I should bring Eudemon, a young neighbor of mine, to talk Latin with Gargantua?”
Grangousier laid down his fork and vowed that it was the very best plan he ever had heard.
So, that evening Eudemon came,—an ordinary-sized boy about twelve years old. Pulling off his cap and bowing politely to all the company, he began immediately in the best Latin to thank Grangousier for allowing him to come to the palace, and then to tell Gargantua how glad he was to have the chance of talking with him.
When Gargantua heard that torrent of Latin of which he could not understand a single word, he grew so red that he had to hide his face in his cap, and stood there as dumb as a cow. As for Master Holofernes, he sneaked quietly out of the back door of the palace, and ran away as fast and as far as his legs would carry him.
For the first time in his life Grangousier was angry.
“What!” he bellowed, glaring at Gargantua and trembling in all his chins. “Not a word to say for yourself! Well then, well then, well then, not a minute longer do you stay here! Off to Paris with you, and get some sense put into your great, stupid head!”