ot have been a
grand bargain for him?"

"But could not your uncle have been more judicious and systematic in the
prosecution of his studies, and have done the same amount of work
without detriment to his health?" asked Professor Gray.

"I do not doubt that he might. But our schools are run nowadays upon, as
I said before, a high-pressure system. Too many children are packed into
imperfectly ventilated schoolrooms, and the poor teachers are miserably
overtaxed. But the schools are graded, everything cut and dried, the
curriculum made by state or county board; and, like the tyrant's
bedstead, those too long must be cut off, and those too short must be
stretched. All must fit the bedstead. That great story-teller, Charles
Dickens, tells the story exactly in his picture of Dr. Blimmer's system
of teaching. That poor babe, Paul Dombey, might as well have been fed to
an insatiable ogre as to have been placed in the hands of that pompous
idiot. And our country is full of little Paul Dombeys, blossoming for
eternity. How much better to have let the poor little fellow play in the
sands upon the beach with his sister Florence and old Glubb. But the
precocious innocent must be murdered by this same senseless system,
because of the inordinate vanity of a foolish father, and the stupidity
of his teacher. In vain have I warned hundreds of parents, when I saw
their children thus being hurried to premature graves. But they are so
proud of the precocious darlings that they seldom heed until it is too
late. Faugh! the whole business makes me sick."

"Well, Doctor, admitting all you say, what do you suggest as the remedy?
I have known many statesmen who could see and point out the evils,
present or imminent, of society or state, with great sagacity and
accuracy, but when it came to prescribing the remedy, were utterly
impracticable," said Professor Gray.

"That is right, Professor Gray. It is very little benefit to a sick man
to tell him that he is sick, or even to make for him a scientific
diagnosis, if it be not supplemented by the remedy. I have remedial
measures to suggest. In the first place, I would build schoolhouses upon
strictly scientific principles; a certain number of cubic yards of pure
air should be allowed each scholar, and the most perfect system of
ventilation should always be used. Further, by way of homely
illustration, I should treat the children upon the same principles that
we do our horses. Some horses are calcu