“Berlin is on the Spree, sir.”
“Ah, of course! It slipped me,” mutters Tim with a thoughtful frown. “Any one knows Berlin is on the Spree!” And down he goes again, as if it were the common lot of all clever boys.
Arithmetic ensues. “Tell me, Timothy, if a man earns four shillings and sixpence halfpenny a day, how much does he make in a week of six days?”
This enormous problem Tim takes due time to cogitate. Of course he could tell you straight off if he chose; but as it is the practice to work out sums in the head, he condescends to the common prejudice. At length the oracle speaks.
“One pound three and two pence halfpenny.”
“Quite wrong; what do you make it, Edward?”
“One pound four.”
“Wrong. Next?”
“One pound seven and threepence.”
“That’s right.”