"The way they built Rome will never answer for me. I must grow like one of our Western cities that has a mayor and opera-house almost before the Indians and wolves are driven out of town. Speaking of Rome reminds me how little I know of that city, and it's a burning shame, too, for I spent a month there."
"Well," said Mr. Mayhew, with kindling interest, "suppose we take up a course of reading about Rome for the winter."
"For the winter! That won't do at all. Can't you tell me something of interest about Rome this evening?"
"I've already mentioned the interesting fact—that it wasn't built in a day. I think that's the most important thing that you need to know about Rome and everything else this evening. Why, Ida, you can't become wise as an ostrich makes its supper—by swallowing everything that comes in its way. You are not a bit like an ostrich."
"An ostrich is a silly bird that puts its head under the sand and thins its whole great body hidden because it can't see itself, isn't it, father?"
"I've heard that story told of it," replied Mr. Mayhew, laughing.
"Anything but an ostrich, then. Come, I'll read the evening paper to you on condition you tell me the leading questions of the day. What is just now the leading question of the day?"
"Well," said Mr. Mayhew, demurely, but with a sparkle of humor in his eye, "one of the leading questions of this day with me has been whether Mr. Van Berg would not enjoy dining with us to-morrow evening now that he is here alone in the city?"
Ida instantly held the newspaper before her crimson face and said:
"Father, you ought to be ashamed thus to divert my mind from the pursuit of useful knowledge."