Louisa, (laying aside her work and looking attentively at her father.) I do not at all know where to begin, papa. I think you will not understand me, if I do not first tell you something about Numitor and Amulius.
Mr. B. Then, by all means, begin with them.
Louisa. Numitor and Amulius were brothers. They were sons to the king of Lavinium. Numitor was, by his father's will, left heir to the throne, and Amulius was to have all the treasures. This, however, did not satisfy him; he wanted to be king too, and, by means of his riches, soon gained his wish. He was a very bad man indeed, for he killed Numitor's two sons, and would not let his daughter marry, for fear she should have a little baby, which, when it grew up, might deprive him of the crown he had so wickedly taken from his brother. Notwithstanding his precaution, she did have two little boys, whom she named Romulus and Remus. Amulius, their cruel uncle, found them out, and ordered them to be drowned: so the poor little creatures were put into a cradle, and thrown in the the river Tiber. But it happened, just at that time, it had overflowed its banks, and at the place where they were thrown in, the water was too shallow to drown them.—Do I get on pretty well, papa?
Mr. B. Admirably, my dear Louisa. Edward, can you tell us where the river Tiber flows?
Edward. Yes, father, it rises in the Apenine mountains in Italy, and empties itself into the Mediterranean Sea, ten miles from Rome. Its present name is Tivere.
Mr. B. Perfectly right, my boy. Now, Louisa, go on. I beg pardon for interrupting you.
Louisa. I think I left my little babies in a very dangerous situation on the banks of the Tiber: they, however, escaped the death prepared for them. The cradle floated some time, and on the waters' retiring, was left on dry ground. And now, papa, do you know, I do not quite believe what the book says, about a wolf's coming and suckling them: it seems so unnatural.
Mr. B. I am inclined to doubt the fact too, my dear; but not upon the ground of its being unnatural, as I have heard of many circumstances quite as extraordinary, which, nevertheless, I know to have been true. But go on with your relation.
Louisa. At last, Faustulus, the king's shepherd, found them, and took them home to his wife, Laurentia, who brought them up as her own children. They followed the employment of shepherds, but soon discovered abilities above the meanness of their supposed birth. As they grew up, they were not content with watching their flocks, but used often to employ themselves in hunting wild beasts, and attacking a band of robbers that infested the country. One day Remus was taken prisoner, carried before the king, and accused of having robbed upon his lands. The king sent him to Numitor, that he might punish him as he thought proper. Numitor, however, did not punish him at all, for he, by accident, discovered that he was his grandson. Amulius was soon afterwards killed, and Numitor restored to the throne. Now, papa, may Emily tell you the rest?
Mr. B. Louisa has acquitted herself wonderfully well. Let me hear you, my dear Emily, continue the account.