"Geography, you mean, Horace."
"Well, Ge-ography, then. Here's the book: we begin at the Mohammedans."
Horace could pronounce that long name very well, though he had no idea what it meant. He knew there was a book called the Koran, and would have told you Mr. Mohammed wrote it; but so had Mr. Colburn written an Arithmetic, and whether both these gentlemen were alive, or both dead, was more than he could say.
"Hold up your head," said Grace, with dignity, and looking as much as possible like tall Miss Allen, her teacher. "Please repeat your verse."
The first sentence read, "They consider Moses and Christ as true prophets, but Mohammed as the greatest and last."
"I'll tell you," said Horace: "they think that Christ and Moses was good enough prophets, but Mohammed was a heap better."
"Why, Horace, it doesn't say any such think in the book! It begins, 'They consider.'"
"I don't care," said the boy, "Miss Jordan tells us to get the sense of it. Ma, musn't I get the sense of it?" he added, as Mrs. Clifford entered the kitchen.
"But, mamma," broke in Grace, eagerly, "our teacher wants us to commit the verses: she says a great deal about committing the verses."
"If you would give me time to answer," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling, "I should say both your teachers are quite right. You should 'get the sense of it,' as Horace says, and after that commit the verses."