“The three r’s, sir; reading, ‘ritin,’ and ’rithmetic.”

“You are acquainted with mathematics!”

“Well, no, not so much with Mathy as with his brother Bill; but I know him like a book; fact I might say like several books.”

“Like several books, eh?” echoed Chester in a sarcastic tone; “but how well may you be acquainted with the books?  What’s the meaning of pathology?”

“The science of road making of course, sir; enny fool could answer such a question as that.”

“Could he, indeed?  Well you’ve made a miss, for your answer is wide of the mark.”

“How wide is the Atlantic ocean?” asked Herbert.

“’Bout a thousand miles.”

“Another miss; it’s three thousand.”

“I know it useter to be, years ago, but they’ve got to crossin’ it so quick now that you needn’t tell me it’s more’n a thousand.”

“In what year was the Declaration of Independence signed?” asked Harold.

“Wall now, I don’t jist remember,” returned the applicant, thrusting both hands deep into his pockets and gazing down meditatively at the carpet, “somewheres ’bout 1860, wuzn’t it? no, come to think, I guess ’twas ’63.”

“No, no, no! you are thinking of the proclamation of emancipation.  Another miss.  We don’t find you qualified for the situation; so wish you good day, sir.”

“Ah, ah! ah, ah! um h’m, um h’m! so I should say,” soliloquized Mr. Lilburn, leaning on his goldheaded cane and watching the four lads as they scattered and left the room; “and so this is the end of act the first, I suppose.  Miss, miss, miss, ah that’s the syllable that begins the new word.”

Evelyn now came in with an umbrella in her hand, Grace and Rose Lacey walking a little in her rear.  Evelyn raised the umbrella and turning to the little girls, said pleasantly, “Come under, children, I can’t keep the rain off you unless you are under the umbrella.”  They accepted the invitation and the three moved slowly back and forth across the room several times.

“It’s a nice sort of shelter to be under when it rains,” remarked Rose Lacey.

“Yes, I like to be under it,” said Grace.

“But it is wearisome to walk all the time; let us stand still for a little,” proposed Evelyn.

“Yes; by that stand yonder,” said Grace.

They went to it and stationed themselves there for a moment; then Grace stepped from under the umbrella and seated herself on the carpet under the stand.

“Look, look!” laughed Rose Lacey, “there’s Miss Grace Raymond under the stand; a miss-under-stand.”

A storm of applause, and cries of “Well done, little ones!  Very prettily done indeed!” and Gracie, rosy with blushes, came out from her retreat and ran to hide her face on her father’s shoulder, while he held her close with one arm, softly smoothing her curls with the other hand.

“Don’t be disturbed, darling,” he said; “it is only kind commendation of the way in which Rosie and you have acted your parts.”