"Not he!" answered another. "He is at the school-room with the children, and he never knows when to leave them."
"Oh! that is very well," grumbled a third, "but I think we had better go in and get a glass of wine, than wait here all this time."
"Have a little patience, friend; if Simon teaches our children, it is that they may be better off than their fathers, and not like them be compelled to die with cold and fatigue some day among the mountains!"
"Well said, friend, well said!" called out a full rich voice.
Every one turned. The door of the school-room was open, and he who had spoken was standing with arms outspread to prevent the children from rushing out too hastily on the slippery ice.
"Not so quick, children," he cried. "You can't fly over the snow like lapwings."
A boy of about ten repeated these words to the smaller children.
"That is right, Jacques," said Simon, "begin early, for you may have this school some day yourself!"
"Good morning, Master Simon," said one of the woodcutters, taking off his hat, "we were just saying that we should like something warm before we started."
"And you are right. I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting. I was just telling the children about a battle of the Republic at Valmy."