th loving diligence,
I might, should life's contingencies require,
Wring a support;--and then, how carefully
You taught me how to deal with slippery men!
Taught me my rights, the laws, the very forms
By which to guard against neglect or fraud
In any business--till I'm half a lawyer.
You taught me, too, how to protect myself,
Should force assail me; how to hold a pistol,
Carry it, fire it--Heaven save me from the need!
And, when I was a very little girl,
You used to take me round to see the houses
As they were built; the clearing of the land;
The digging of the cellar; the foundations;
You told me that the sand to make the mortar
Ought to be fresh, and not the sea-shore sand;
Else would the salt keep up a certain moisture.
And then we'd watch the framework, and the roofing;
And you'd explain the office and the name
Of every beam, and make me understand
The qualities of wood, seasoning of timber,
And how the masons, and the carpenters,
The plasterers, the plumbers, and the slaters,
Should do their work; and when they slighted it,
And when the wood-work was too near the flue,
The flue too narrow, or the draught defective:
So that, as you yourself have often said,
I'm better qualified than half the builders
To plan and build a house, and guard myself
From being cheated in the operation.
Fear not for me, my parents; spend your income
Without a thought of saving. And besides,
Had you not trained me aptly as you have,
Am I not better--I--than many sparrows?
There is a heavenly Father over all!"

"Sweet arguer!" said Percival, "may He
And his swift angels love and help our Linda!
Your mother and myself have tried of late
To study how and where we might reduce
Certain expenses that have been,----"

But here
The dinner-bell broke in; and lighter thoughts--
Thoughts that but skim the surface of the mind,
And stir not its profound--were interchanged
As now more timely; for the Percivals
Lacked not good appetites, and every meal
Had its best stimulant in cheerfulness.
"Where shall we go to pass our holidays?"
The mother asked: "August will soon be here."
"What says our Linda?" answered Percival:
"The seaside or the mountains shall it be?"
"Linda will go with the majority!
You've spilt the salt, papa; please throw a little
Over your shoulder; there! that saves a quarrel.