The event made a profound impression, because I had to stand perfectly still while the picture was being taken, and because the daguerreotypist, a German, whose name was Schaetzig, rolled his rs and hissed his ss. The whole affair was a great secret, which was not to be betrayed. The present was to be a surprise, and I was compelled to promise perfect silence. I kept my promise for one day.
But next day, at the dinner- table, I accidentally burst out: "Now! quite shtill! as the man said." "What man?" "Ah! that was the secret!" The visit to Schaetzig in itself I had reason to remember a long time. Some one or another had said that I had a slender neck, and that it was pretty.