...Que s'est-il donc passe? Quel est cet equipage?
J'arrive, et je vous trouve en veste, comme un page,
Dehors, bras nus, nu-tete, et si petit garcon
Que vous avez en main l'auge et le cavecon,
Et faisant ce qu'il sied aux ecuyers de faire,
--Cheick, dit le Cid, je suis maintenant chez mon pere.
Those who never saw Guynemer at his father's at Compiegne cannot know
him well. Of course, even in camp he was the best of comrades, full of
his work, but always ready to enjoy somebody else's success, and
speaking about his own as if it were billiards or bridge. His renown
had not intoxicated him, and he would have been quite unconscious of it
had he not sometimes felt that unresponsiveness on the part of others
which is the price of glory: anything like jealousy hurt him as if it
had been his first discovery of evil. In Kipling's _Jungle Book_,
Mowgli, the man cub, noticing that the Jungle hates him, feels his eyes
and is frightened at finding them wet. "What is this, Bagheera?" he asks
of his friend the panther. "Oh, nothing; only tears," answers Bagheera,
who had lived among men.
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