stayed up an hour later at night; he was to be allowed twopence a week
pocket-money; his whole social status had risen. He began to read for
pleasure, and discovered that it was easier than he had expected, so
that he passed quite quickly through "Lottie's Visit to Grandmama" into
"Stumps" and out again in "Jackanapes." He heard some elder say that the
road to a large fortune lay through "Sums," and, although this seemed to
him an extremely mysterious statement, he determined to give the theory
a chance. In fact, he sat down the first day at the schoolroom table,
Mary and Helen on each side of him, and Miss Jones facing them, with
fine resolves and high ambitions. Before him lay a pure white page, and
at the head of this the noble words in a running hand: "Slow and steady
wins the race." He grasped his pencil, and Miss Jones, eager to lose no
time in asserting her authority, cried: "But that's not the way to hold
your pencil, Jeremy, your thumb so, your finger so." He scowled and
found that lifting his thumb over the pencil was as difficult as lifting
Hamlet over a gate. He made a bold attempt, but the pencil refused to
move.

"Can't hold it that way," he said.

"You must never say 'can't,' Jeremy," remarked Miss Jones. "There isn't
such a word."

"Oh, yes," said Mary eagerly, "there is; I've seen it in books."

"You musn't contradict, Mary," said Miss Jones. "I only meant that you
must behave as though there isn't, because nothing is impossible to one
who truly tries."

"My pencil waggles this way," said Jeremy politely. "I think I'll hold
it the old way, please."

"There's only one way of doing anything," said Miss Jones, "and that's
the right way."

"This is the right way for me," said Jeremy.

"If I say it's not the right way--"

"But it waggles," cried Jeremy.

The discussion was interrupted by a cry from Helen.

"Oh, do look, Miss Jones, Hamlet's got your spectacle-case. He thinks
it's a mouse."

There followed general confusion. Miss Jones jumped up, and, with little
cries of distress, pursued Hamlet, who hastened into his favourite
corner and began to worry the spectacle-case, with one eye on Miss Jones
and one on his spoils.

Jeremy hurried up crying: "Put it down, Hamlet, naughty dog, naughty
dog," and Mary and Helen laughed with frantic delight.

At last Miss Jones, her face red and her hair in disorder, rescued her
property and returned to the table, Hamlet meanwhile wagging his tail,
pant