“We shall have the assistance,” said Mr. Peterkin, “of Agamemnon, with his Encyclopædia.”
Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A.
“That would not be impossible,” said Mr. Peterkin. “There is Amanda, who will wait on table, to start with—”
“We could have ‘am-and-eggs,” suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter.
Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do was to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers as they could.
They could still apply to the Encyclopædia, even if it were not in Agamemnon’s alphabetical course.
Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. The study of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the butter-dish would bring in geology.
The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the cream-jug, and they were promised a potter’s wheel directly.
“You see, my dear,” said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, “before many weeks, we shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children.”
Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study.