He again opened the register, sought out the name, and entered the
mark. "Come, only one mark," he said, "since you hadn't any before."

"But, Padre," exclaimed Placido, restraining himself, "if your
Reverence puts a mark against me for failing in the lesson, your
Reverence owes it to me to erase the one for absence that you have
put against me for today."

His Reverence made no answer. First he slowly entered the mark,
then contemplated it with his head on one side,--the mark must be
artistic,--closed the register, and asked with great sarcasm, "_Abá_,
and why so, sir?"

"Because I can't conceive, Padre, how one can be absent from the
class and at the same time recite the lesson in it. Your Reverence
is saying that to be is not to be."

"_Nakú_, a metaphysician, but a rather premature one! So you can't
conceive of it, eh? _Sed patet experientia_ and _contra experientiam
negantem, fusilibus est arguendum_, do you understand? And can't
you conceive, with your philosophical head, that one can be absent
from the class and not know the lesson at the same time? Is it a fact
that absence necessarily implies knowledge? What do you say to that,
philosophaster?"

This last epithet was the drop of water that made the full cup
overflow. Placido enjoyed among his friends the reputation of being
a philosopher, so he lost his patience, threw down his book, arose,
and faced the professor.