“I am past fourteen,” said David.
“And are you ready for the university, as Frank thought, or is that a mistake of his, too?”
“Yes,” said David. “I am almost ready.”
“Oh! he was ready long ago,” said Jem, coming to the rescue. “Frank said he was reading the same books that his brother read in the second year.”
“Indeed!” said Mr Oswald, smiling at his eagerness. “And you are Jem? You are neither of you such giants as I gathered from Frank, but perhaps the mistake was mine. But when one hears of horse-shoeing and Homer—you know one thinks of young men.”
“And this is Violet, only we call her Letty; and this is Ned, and I am Jessie, and this is wee Polly,” said Jessie, a sturdy little maiden of eight, looking with her honest grey eyes straight into Mr Oswald’s face. He acknowledged her introduction by shaking hands with each as she named them.
“I find I have made another mistake,” said he. “I thought Letty was a little girl who always stood at the head of her class, and who could run races with her brothers, and gather nuts, and be as nice as a boy. That was Frank’s idea.”
“And so she can,” said Ned.
“And so she is,” said Jem.
“That was so long ago,” said Violet, in confusion.