t that, if fractional ages be admissible,
any one of the three sons might be the one "come of age"; but she
rightly rejects this supposition on the ground that it would make the
problem indeterminate. WHITE SUGAR is the only one who has detected an
oversight of mine: I had forgotten the possibility (which of course
ought to be allowed for) that the son, who came of age that _year_, need
not have done so by that _day_, so that he _might_ be only 20. This
gives a second solution, viz., 20, 24, 28. Well said, pure Crystal!
Verily, thy "fair discourse hath been as sugar"!

CLASS LIST.

I.

ALGERNON BRAY.
AN OLD FOGEY.
E. M. RIX.
G. S. C.
S. S. G.
TOKIO.
T. R.
WHITE SUGAR.

II.

C. R.
DELTA.
MAGPIE.
SIMPLE SUSAN.

III.

DINAH MITE.
M. F. C.

* * * * *

I have received more than one remonstrance on my assertion, in the
Chelsea Pensioners' problem, that it was illogical to assume, from the
_datum_ "70 p. c. have lost an eye," that 30 p. c. have _not_. ALGERNON
BRAY states, as a parallel case, "suppose Tommy's father gives him 4
apples, and he eats one of them, how many has he left?" and says "I
think we are justified in answering, 3." I think so too. There is no
"must" here, and the _data_ are evidently meant to fix the answer
_exactly_: but, if the question were set me "how many _must_ he have
left?", I should understand the _data_ to be that his father gave him 4
_at least_, but _may_ have given him more.

I take this opportunity of thanking those who have sent, along with
their answers to the Tenth Knot, regrets that there are no more Knots to
come, or petitions that I should recall my resolution to bring them to
an end. I am most grateful for their kind words; but I think it wisest
to end what, at best, was but a lame attempt. "The stretched metre of an
antique song" is beyond my compass; and my puppets were neither
distinctly _in_ my life (like those I now address), nor yet (like Alice
and the Mock Turtle) distinctly _out_ of it. Yet let me at least fancy,
as I lay down the pen, that I carry with me into my silent life, dear
reader, a farewell smile from your unseen face, and a kindly farewell
pressure from your unfelt hand! And so, good night! Parting is such
sweet sorrow, that I shall say "good night!" till it be morrow.

THE END

LONDON: RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, PRINTERS.

[TURN OVER.

WORKS BY LEWIS CARROLL.