But to go back to my story. Mamma came in and said:
"Children, you must go to bed now. I declare, if Rose isn't asleep already over the statue of Milton!"
So with their thoughts full of Milton, they reluctantly went to bed, and I am led to suppose that they dreamed of Milton that night. The next day at dinner they had corn-beef.
"Oh, dear!" said mamma. "This meat has too much saltpetre in it. I declare, I will never buy of that meat-man again!"
After dinner the children gathered around uncle Dick.
"Uncle," said Willie, getting up on uncle's knee, "what was that mamma said the meat had too much of in? Salt—"
"Why, Willie Lathrop!" exclaimed Mary. "It is saltpetre. You ignorant boy; I'm ashamed of you!" Mary was very much ashamed of Willie sometimes, and sometimes he had reason to be ashamed of her.
"What is saltpetre, then, Mary?" said uncle Dick.
"Why, wh-y, wh-y—it's saltpetre. That's all I know."
"Then you see that after all you don't know so much," said he.