“Now hear me, Frédéric, the next time you miss school to go off paddling in the brook, I will break a stick over your back—do not forget.”
In spite of this, three days after, through sheer thoughtlessness, I again cut school and went off to the brook.
Did he spy on me, or was it mere chance that brought him that way? Just as I and my boon companions were splashing about with naked legs, at a few paces from us suddenly I behold my sire. My heart gave one bound.
He stood still and called to me:
“So that is it!.... You know what I promised you? Very well, I shall be ready for you this evening.”
Nothing more, and he went on his way.
My good father, good as the Blessed Bread, had never given me even a slap, but he had a loud voice and a rough way of speaking, and I feared him as I did fire.
“Ha!” I said to myself, “this time, but this time, he will kill you. Assuredly he has gone to prepare the rod.”
My companions, little scamps, snapped their fingers with glee, and cried:
“Aha! aha! what a drubbing you’ll get! Aha! aha! on your bare back too!”