about her heavy book, which
fell with a bang within the fender, and going up between her father's
knees said, in a half-crying, half-angry voice,--

"Father, Tom wouldn't be naughty to you ever; I know he wouldn't."

"What! they mustn't say any harm o' Tom, eh?" said Mr. Tulliver,
looking at Maggie with a twinkling eye. Then he added gently, "Go, go
and see after your mother."

"Did you ever hear the like on't?" said Mr. Tulliver as Maggie retired.
"It's a pity but what she'd been the lad."

Mr. Riley laughed, took a pinch of snuff, and said,--

"But your lad's not stupid, is he?" said Mr. Riley. "I saw him, when I
was here last, busy making fishing-tackle; he seemed quite up to it."

"Well, he isn't stupid. He's got a notion o' things out o' door, an' a
sort o' common sense, and he'll lay hold o' things by the right handle.
But he's slow with his tongue, you see, and he reads but poorly, and
can't abide the books, and spells all wrong, they tell me, an' you
never hear him say 'cute things like the little wench. Now, what I
want is to send him to a school where they'll make him a bit nimble
with his tongue and his pen, and make a smart chap of him."

"You're quite in the right of it, Tulliver," observed Mr. Riley.
"Better spend an extra hundred or two on your son's education than
leave it him in your will."

"I dare say, now, you know of a school as 'ud be just the thing for
Tom," said Mr. Tulliver.

Mr. Riley took a pinch of snuff, and waited a little before he said,--

"I know of a very fine chance for any one that's got the necessary
money, and that's what you have, Tulliver. But if any one wanted his
boy to be placed under a first-rate fellow, I know his man. He's an
Oxford man, and a parson. He's willing to take one or two boys as
pupils to fill up his time. The boys would be quite of the family--the
finest thing in the world for them--under Stelling's eye continually."

"But do you think they'd give the poor lad twice o' pudding?" said Mrs.
Tulliver, who was now in her place again.

"And what money 'ud he want?" said Mr. Tulliver.

"Stelling is moderate in his terms; he's not a grasping man," said Mr.
Riley. "I've no doubt he'd take your boy at a hundred. I'll write to
him about it if you like."

Mr. Tulliver rubbed his knees, and looked at the carpet.

"But belike he's a bachelor," observed Mrs. Tulliver, "an' I've no
opinion o' house-keepers. It 'ud break my heart to send Tom where
t