George Sand

“ The shell-fish, that is to say, the maestro (for I maintain that no metaphor could be more appropriate to his angular movements, his beady eyes, his cheek-bones blotched with red, and, above all, to the thousand little curls, white and stiff and pointed, of the professorial wig) — the maestro, I say, forced back three times on the bench from which he had tried to rise, but calm and impassive as a shell-fish, rocked and toughened by tempests, refused for a long time to say which of his pupils deserved the praise of which he was usually so sparing, but of which he had just been so prodigal. ”

“ The Spaniard? " cried the young singers with one voice, all amazement. Then a universal burst of Homeric laughter drove a flush of indignation and anger to the majestic brow of the professor.
Little Consuelo, whose stopped ears had not heard a word of this dialogue, and whose eyes were wandering about without seeing anything, so absorbed was she by her work, remained unconscious of the disturbance for some minutes. Then, perceiving at last the attention of which she was the object, she dropped her hands from her ears to her knees, and her books from her knees to the floor. ”

“ Consuelo began to laugh too, and suddenly, as if remembering that some one was waiting, started away and was over the threshold of the church, down the steps, and out of the porch in a twinkling.
Meanwhile the professor had again put his spectacles in the large pocket of his waistcoat, and said to the silent pupils, " Shame on you, my fine young ladies ! This little girl, the youngest of you all, the newest in my class, is the only one of you capable of singing a solo properly ”