"Ah! great heavens, how fine and grand Is the palace!"
"You young rascal!" cried Poluche. "Have I not bid you fifty times that at the word 'palace' you are to place your bow on the fourth chalkmark and draw it across? Begin again."
Once again the boy commenced, but Poluche stopped him.
"I believe, you young villain, that you are doing it on purpose. Now, go through the whole chorus again; and if you do not do it right, look out for squalls."
Poor Ascanie was so muddled that he forgot all his instructions. Without any appearance of anger, the professor took up the whip and administered half a dozen severe cuts across the bare legs of the child, whose shouts soon filled the room.
"When you are done howling," remarked Poluche, "you can try again; and if you do not succeed, no supper for you to-night, my lad. Now, Giuseppe, it is your turn."
Giuseppe, though younger than Ascanie, was a greater proficient on the instrument, and went through his task without a single mistake.
"Good!" said Poluche; "if you get on like that, you will soon be fit to go out. You would like that, I suppose?"
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