ir, they are sitting at the table, writing an
account of something I have told them. Maggie lays down her pen with a
sigh of satisfaction. "There, that is beautiful! But I dare say it is
not as good as yours, Alec." "Don't interrupt me," says Alec sternly,
"and don't push against me when I'm busy." Maggie looks round and
concludes that I am busy too. In a minute, Alec will have done, and
then I shall read the two pieces aloud; then we shall criticise them
respectfully. The aim is to make them frankly recognise the good points
of each other's compositions as well as the weak points, and this they
are very ready to do.

In all this I do not neglect the physical side. They can ride and swim.
They go out in all weathers and get wholesomely wet, dirty, and tired.
Games are a difficulty, but I want them to be able, if necessary, to do
without games. We botanise, we look for nests, we geologise, we study
birds through glasses, we garden. It is all very unscientific, but they
observe, they perceive, they love the country. Moreover, Maud has a
passion for knowing all the village people, and takes the children with
her, so that they really know the village-folk all round; they are
certainly tremendously happy and interested in everything. Of course
they are volatile in their tastes, but I rather encourage that. I know
that in the little old moral books the idea was that nothing should be
taken up by children, unless it was done thoroughly and perseveringly;
but I had rather that they had a wide experience; the time to select
and settle down upon a pursuit is not yet, and I had rather that they
found out for themselves what they care about, than practise them in a
premature patience. The only thing I object to is their taking up
something which they have tried and dropped; then I do require a pledge
that they shall stick to it. I say to them, "I don't mind how many
things you try, and if you find you don't care about one, you may give
it up when you have given it a trial; but it is a bad thing to be
always changing, and everybody can't do everything; so don't take up
this particular thing again, unless you can give a good reason for
thinking you will keep to it."

One of the things I insist upon their doing, whether they like it or
not, is learning to play the piano. There are innumerable people, I
find, who regret not having been made to overcome the initial
difficulties of music; and the only condition I make is, that they
sha