I had to do more—much more than that—before I could obtain my will. I begged, stormed, grumbled, sulked. I became almost ill with hope deferred. At length, for the sake of peace, my parents granted my eccentric wish.
It was a proud moment for me when, for the first time, I arrayed myself in that resplendent nankeen jacket, won at the cost of so many struggles and persevering efforts. Standing before the mirror, I surveyed myself admiringly for a full hour. I was grand! superb!
"Ah! my Lord Met-à-Mort! You will find yourself ousted at last! My shining jacket will soon snatch from you the prestige acquired by your stupid, brute force. Georgette, astonished, fascinated, dazzled, and delighted, will run towards me, for I shall now be the handsomest boy in the school. Met-à-Mort will weep for chagrin, as I have so often wept for jealousy and mortification."
Such were my complacent reflections as, with the stride of a conqueror, I entered the precincts of our school.
Alas for my rose-coloured anticipations! I was greeted with a broadside of laughter. Even our gentle mistress, Ermance Dulorre, could not repress a smile, and, above all other voices, I heard that of Georgette, who cried mirthfully:—
"Oh! look at him! Look at him! He is a canary-bird!"
The word was caught up instantly. All the scholars shouted in chorus: "He is a canary! A canary!"
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.