to stand and hold up our pinafores to catch the coveted prize; and then what laughter and hurrahs and congratulations would be bestowed upon the fortunate catcher!
He had pet names for all except the eldest; he said she grew up too fast for him to fit a name to her. There were "Nannie Curly," "Goggen," "Davy Jones," "Tots," "Glum," "Brave," and "Sat Sing." By these names he always called us, and we knew we had displeased him, and hung our heads with shame, if he gave us our baptismal ones.
I don't think I ever went to school more than three months altogether. He was my loving and tender teacher always; and when Betty and I grew to be fifteen or thereabouts, we had to take care of one or two of the younger ones and teach them to read, write, and cypher, yet without allowing this duty to interfere with our own lessons or our regular tasks of sewing.
He taught us our lessons at the breakfast-table, and for an hour or so after, his plan being to bid us—my sister Betty and myself—"one at a time, tell him about the lesson." He seldom asked us questions on it, unless we found a difficulty in expressing ourselves, and he never asked those put down in the book. After both had our say, he would, taking the lesson for a text, deliver the most delightful lectures. He prescribed no set time for our preparation of these lessons; but we were required to master them thoroughly, and give the substance to him clothed in our own words and not in those of the book. He always expected and required that we should not prepare them at night, but should then come into the parlour to receive and entertain and be entertained by the distinguished men and women who frequently gathered round him. He considered this a most important part of our education.
He objected to the introduction of cards in the family circle, as he said they interfered with intelligent and
