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morning, for being as useless to young ladies as—
let me see—as grandmamma’s walnut.”

“Oh, papa!” I exclaimed. I said not a word
more, but, no doubt, my voice sounded very dole-
ful. I had argued hotly with my governess that
morning that it was a great waste of time for me
to learn arithmetic, “as Iwas not going to bea
shop-girl.”

“Never mind, Honor,” said my father, “sit
still and be happy ; we won’t mention arithmetic
again as you dislike it so much, though for my
own part I own I feel an interest in the faculty
which is supposed to distinguish a man from his
dog—the faculty of calculation, I mean.”

“How, papa?” I asked, for I did not half un-—
derstand what he meant, only as I was very fond
of animals, and of dogs particularly, I wanted to
do so if I could.

** Coleridge—— ” began my father ; but then he
stopped, and looked inquiringly at me.

“Yes, papa, I do know that!” I answered
triumphantly. “Coleridge is the man who wrote
the Ancient Mariner.”