Sylvia's Lovers

Sylvia was still full of the specksioneer and his stories, when

Hepburn came up to give her the next lesson. But the prospect of a

little sensible commendation for writing a whole page full of

flourishing 'Abednegos,' had lost all the slight charm it had ever

possessed. She was much more inclined to try and elicit some

sympathy in her interest in the perils and adventures of the

northern seas, than to bend and control her mind to the right

formation of letters. Unwisely enough, she endeavoured to repeat one

of the narratives that she had heard from Kinraid; and when she

found that Hepburn (if, indeed, he did not look upon the whole as a

silly invention) considered it only as an interruption to the real

business in hand, to which he would try to listen as patiently as he

could, in the hope of Sylvia's applying herself diligently to her

copy-book when she had cleared her mind, she contracted her pretty

lips, as if to check them from making any further appeals for

sympathy, and set about her writing-lesson in a very rebellious

frame of mind, only restrained by her mother's presence from spoken

mutiny.

'After all,' said she, throwing down her pen, and opening and

shutting her weary, cramped hand, 'I see no good in tiring myself

wi' learning for t' write letters when I'se never got one in a' my

life. What for should I write answers, when there's niver a one

writes to me? and if I had one, I couldn't read it; it's bad enough

wi' a book o' print as I've niver seen afore, for there's sure to be

new-fangled words in 't. I'm sure I wish the man were farred who

plagues his brains wi' striking out new words. Why can't folks just

ha' a set on 'em for good and a'?' 'Why! you'll be after using two or three hundred yoursel' every day

as you live, Sylvie; and yet I must use a great many as you never

think on about t' shop; and t' folks in t' fields want their set,

let alone the high English that parsons and lawyers speak.' 'Well, it's weary work is reading and writing. Cannot you learn me

something else, if we mun do lessons?' 'There's sums--and geography,' said Hepburn, slowly and gravely.

'Geography!' said Sylvia, brightening, and perhaps not pronouncing

the word quite correctly, 'I'd like yo' to learn me geography.

There's a deal o' places I want to hear all about.' 'Well, I'll bring up a book and a map next time. But I can tell you

something now. There's four quarters in the globe.' 'What's that?' asked Sylvia.

'The globe is the earth; the place we live on.' 'Go on. Which quarter is Greenland?' 'Greenland is no quarter. It is only a part of one.' 'Maybe it's a half quarter.' 'No, not so much as that.' 'Half again?' 'No!' he replied, smiling a little.