Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

the class she punishes me for the slightest thing; and not only do I suffer in
class, but I get twenty-five lines to copy after school, so that I have no time
to play with the rest of them. How I do detest that woman!"
"Of whom were you speaking?" asked Teresa, who appeared at that
moment.
"Of the school-teacher, Mlle. Virtud."
"I have a good mind to box your ears," cried Teresa indignantly. "You
detest such a fine young lady who works in your behalf."
"Oh, Teresa, don't be angry," I said. "You have no idea how she makes
me suffer. When you were little you never went to school, so you do not
understand. Now, listen--instead of keeping the bad children after school, she
sends us all home with twenty to fifty lines to copy, while she goes calmly
back to her house. The other teachers keep the bad ones there for ten minutes
or so, and that's all there is to it, which is a whole lot more agreeable."
"Mlle. Virtud is absolutely right, for she makes the punishment fit the
crime."
"No, it isn't that," I answered in a rage; "It's because she doesn't want to
stay in school like the other teachers, the selfish thing! Here I am right now
with lines which were given last Monday, and I'm not going to do them. She
can say what she pleases!"
Paula, whose tender heart would have loved to have been on my side
and also on that of Mlle. Virtud at the same time, suggested that perhaps she
had someone who was ill in the house.
"She," I cried, "Mile. Virtud! Who do you think would ever have such a
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