sir, it seems to me
as they're beginning at the wrong place altogether, in filling young
ladies' heads, as they do, with all sorts and sizes of knowledge."

"How do you mean, Thomas?"

"Just this way, sir. I were in Sheffield for a day or two last June,
and as I were a-staring in at one of the cutlers' shops, I caught sight
of a strange-looking article stuck upon a stand right in the middle of
the window. It were all blades and points, like the porcupine as I used
to read about at the national school when I were a boy. It was
evidently meant for a knife; but who would ever think of buying such a
thing as that, except merely as a curiosity? There must have been some
fifty or sixty blades, and these were all sorts of shapes and sizes,
just, I suppose, to show the skill of the workman as contrived to fasten
such a lot of them together; but they would have been no earthly use to
a man as wanted a real working article. Now, as far as I can see and
hear, the young ladies in these days is being got up something like one
of 'em fancy knives. It seems to be the great wish of these young
ladies' parents or friends to put into their heads a lot of learning of
all sorts--so many languages, so many sciences, so many accomplishments,
as they calls 'em, as thick as they can stand together. And what's the
end of it all? Why, folks wonder at 'em, no doubt, and say a great many
fine things to 'em and about 'em; but they're not turned out a real
serviceable article, either for their homes or for the great Master's
work as he'd have them to do it."

"It is too true, dear friend," said the vicar with a sigh.

"Ay! And if I'm not too bold in speaking my mind," proceeded the other,
"that ain't the worst of it. You'll excuse my homely way of talking,
sir, but I can't help thinking of Timothy Pinches' donkey-cart when I
reads or hears of these young ladies with their science classes, and
their Oxford and Cambridge local examinations, and their colleges, and
what not. Timothy Pinches were an old neighbour of mine when I didn't
live in these parts--that were several years ago as I'm talking of. Now
Timothy had a donkey, a quiet and serviceable animal enough, and he'd
got a cart too, which would carry a tidy lot of things, yet at the same
time it weren't none of the strongest. He used to cart my coals for me,
and do an odd job for me here and there. Well, one day I met Timothy
with a strange load in his cart; there was a lot of i