he must use words to explain the impression which words produce on him, he is either silent, or else he begins to talk nonsense, or lies, or deceives himself, trying to find something to satisfy you, or he invents some non-existent difficulty and struggles under it; the general impression produced by a book, the poetic sense which helps him to obtain a notion of it, is driven in and hidden.
We were reading Gogol's "Vii," repeating each paragraph in our own words. Everything went well till we reached the third page, on which is the following paragraph:—
"All these learned people, the seminary as well as the college, which cherished a sort of inherited feud, were absolutely devoid of means for satisfying their hunger, and moreover were unusually voracious, so that to reckon how many galuskas[1] each one of them would eat at a dinner would have been a perfectly impossible task, and therefore the generous offerings of opulent benefactors never sufficed."
Teacher: Well, what have you read?
Almost all these pupils were very well developed children.
The Best Pupil: In the college the people were all voracious eaters, were poor, and at dinner ate galushkas.
Teacher: What else?
Pupil (a mischievous boy with a good memory, speaking whatever comes into his head): An impossible theory—they sacrificed their benefactors.
Teacher (with vexation): Think what you are saying. That is not right. What was an impossibility?
Silence.
Teacher: Read it again.
They read it. One pupil with a good memory added a few more words which he had retained. The seminaries fed by opulent benefactors could not suffice.
No one could make any sense out of it. They began to talk absolute nonsense. The teacher insisted:—
Teacher: What is an impossibility?
- ↑ Dumplings, a Malo-Russian dish.
