"An example will, perhaps, be the most satisfactory explanation. I sometimes, you are aware, make her read French poetry by way of practice in pronunciation. She has in the course of her lessons gone through much of Corneille and Racine, in a very steady, sober spirit, such as I approve. Occasionally she showed, indeed, a degree of languor in the perusal of those esteemed authors, partaking rather of apathy than sobriety; and apathy is what I cannot tolerate in those who have the benefit of my instructions--besides, one should not be apathetic in studying standard works. The other day I put into her hands a volume of short fugitive pieces. I sent her to the window to learn one by heart, and when I looked up I saw her turning the leaves over impatiently, and curling her lip, absolutely with scorn, as she surveyed the little poems cursorily. I chid her. 'Ma cousine,' said she, 'tout cela m'ennuie la mort.' I told her this was improper language. 'Dieu!' 
"For example, when I ask her to read French poetry to practice her pronunciation. She has gone through much of Corneille and Racine, in a very steady, sober spirit, such as I approve. Occasionally she seemed, indeed, apathetic. The other day I gave her a book of short pieces, to learn one by heart. I saw her turning the leaves over impatiently, and curling her lip with scorn. I chided her. 'Cousin,' said she, 'all this bores me to death. Are there not two lines of poetry in all of French literature?' 