Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

The most solemn moment of our visit was when we had to make our
report to our grandparents as to our progress in school. I remember
especially one year when Rosa was the first in her class, and Santiago our
tall cousin had taken the first prize in the great school of "Louis the Great,"
from which each year he carried new laurels. For them it was of course a
time of triumph--but for me! oh, with what shame I presented my report
card. My grandmother read it. "Lisita Dumas--last place!" and I hid my face
in my hands.
"Come, come," grandma said, "don't cry. Try to do better next time."
My cousins were not quite so charitable as they passed my poor card
from hand to hand.
"Tell us, Lisita," Santiago said, when he thought we were well out of
ear-shot of our elders, "you certainly do love to ride in the seat behind, do
you not?" and he pulled my hair with the remark, "Better let somebody else
sit there, hereafter." But grandmother overheard him and she said, "Go a
little slower, my fine fellow. Lisita might have a more brilliant future than
you think. And besides, when you, my fine grandson, are scintillating in the
world of letters and Rosa is director of the great normal school, perhaps
Lisita may be occupying a comfortable post right here in this great house." I
didn't understand the full import of these remarks, but I noticed it had the
effect of silencing my tormentor who slunk away abashed.
We would play happily in the garden until supper-time and even the
grown folks joined us in some of our games. Sometimes father would gather
all of us children around him, and we would never tire of hearing the stories
of his adventures when, as a young man, he had gone far beyond the
boundaries of France. These wonderful stories seemed so strange to us as we
looked upon our father's sad and severe countenance; but our uncles August
101