gin soon to educate your son

my father, "you have re

erstand you,

read Martinus Scrib

I have read it;

when he is defacing the first unsullied page of the human history by entering into it the commonplaces of his own pedantry. A scholar, sir,-at least one li

s, whom you quoted the night the boy wa

ve, that childhood and genius have the same master-organ in common,-inquisitiveness. Let childhood have its way, and as it began where genius begins, it may find what genius finds. A certain Greek writer tells us of some man who, in order to save his bees a troublesome flight to Hymettus, cut their wi

grass and plucking daisies on the lawn, while the young m

bill out of your nursery,

t her affection put out new flowers for the new generation. She was a Devonshire woman; and Devonshire women, especially those who have passed their youth near the sea-coast, are generally superstitious. She had a wonderful budget of fables. Before I was six years old, I was erudite in that primitive literature in which the legends of all nati

e solid benefit to be derived from such fantastic

mbolic significations of the highest morality. I have myself written a treatise to prove that Puss in Boots is an allegory upon the progress of the human understanding, having its origin in the mystica

blue eyes, "you don't think that Sisty will di

red that I was no worse for all the quartos that have transmigrated into ideas within me,-ideas that are mysteries even to myself. If Sisty, as you call the child (plague on that unlucky anachronism! which you do well to abbreviate into a dissyllable),-if Sisty can't disco

teaching, therefore thou wert, at heart, indifferent to thy troublesome Neogilos. As I grew older, I became more sensibly aware that a father's eye was upon me. I dis

ul delf blue-and-white flower-pot, which had been set on the window-sill of an upper story, fell to the ground with a crash, and the fragme

the porch, "my poor flower-pot that I prized so mu

fatal window, nodded to the summons, and

light last May,-I would rather the best tea-set were broken! The poor geranium I reared myself, and the dea

are usually afraid of very silent shy ones. She cast a hasty glance at her master, who was beginning to evi

and you knew how I prized them both.

isty, coming out of the house as bold as brass, continued rapidly-"

s hat, and was regarding the scene with serious eyes wide awake. "Hush! And if he did break it, ma'am, it was quite an acci

t; take care in future, my child. You are sorry, I s

e; I don't deserve it. I pushed

said my fathe

ns trembled

to see how you'd look, papa; and that's

wrong: you shall repair it by remembering all your life that your father blessed God for giving him a son who spok

d better, and less of an infant, when I thought over it, and tried to puzzle out the meaning; for he had a way of suggesting, not teaching, putting things into my head, and then leaving them to work out their own problems. I remember a special instance with respect to that same flower-pot and geranium. Mr. Squills, who was a bachelor, and well-to-do in th

ging the ivory parallelograms in the parlor, "ah!

yes,

that box out of the window and break it for fun." I

ou read of could change the domino-box into a beautiful geranium in a beautiful blue-and-w

uld!" said I

good wishes don't mend bad action

by his aphorism. But I know that I played at dominos no more that day. The next morning my father found me se

nd, by the by, fetch your domino-box. I should like to show it to a person there." I ran in

the way, "there ar

hen, my

x be changed into a geranium an

ho is in earnest to be good, carries two fairies about with him,-one her

understan

you do, Pisistrat

he flowers, paused before a large double geranium. "Ah! this is fin

d.," said t

. "I can't afford it to-day," sa

d. Yes, that is the price. Well; when your mamma's birthday comes again, we must buy her another. That is some months to wait. And we can wait, Maste

e, rose again; but the rush of j

pretty toys and knick-knacks. "And by the way," he added, as the smiling shopman looked over his books for the entry, "I think my little boy here can show you

ways well, my boy, to know what a thing is worth, in case one wishes to part with i

to give more than eighteen shillings for it, unless the yo

give that sum! Well, my boy, whenever you do grow

I lingered behind a few moments, and

n buy the geranium; we can buy the flower-pot."

, passing his handkerchief over his e

ng vase and flower on the window-sill, I plucked my

ey!" said my father; "good a

your poor domino-box that you were so fond of! We will g

back, Pisistratus

il all," I cried, burying m

son to our child,-the sanctity and the happiness of self-s