I found a stump of pencil, and an empty corner of The History of the War, and worked it out. "£112 2s. 0d.," I said at last.
"Not so bad, Daddy, in twelve months."
"Marvellous!" I said; "colossal! But you haven't allowed for the chickens we shall eat."
"No," she said, "but we shall save 2s. on each one we eat, so it's the same thing in the end."
I admitted the plausibility of this calculation.
"But," I said, "you're not allowing for deaths and bad eggs."
"Oh yes, I am," she said; "I've only allowed half the eggs to become chickens."
"You'd never make a company promoter," I said.
"I'm going to be a hospital nurse, thank you, Daddy," she said with her nose in the air. "Do come and see Evangeline's family."
So we strolled into the garden and down to the poultry run, taking the multiplication sums with us.