who pays for the gas?"

"Nobody's paid last quarter's yet. Mother can't do everything, and----"

"Well, we can talk about that some other time. To-night I am going to
read aloud to you a play of Shakespeare's. I wonder if you even know
who Shakespeare was?"

"Of course I do."

"Could you honestly say that you have ever read one--only one--of his
tragedies?"

"No. Could you?"

"I am going to read 'Macbeth' to you, trying to indicate by changes in
my voice which character is speaking." I opened the book.

Eliza said that she couldn't think who it was took her scissors.

"I can't begin till you keep quiet," I said.

"It's the second pair that's gone this week."

"Very well, then," I said, shutting up the book with a bang, "I will
not read aloud to you to-night at all. You may get along as you can
without it."

"You're sure you didn't take those scissors for anything?" she replied,
meditatively.

* * * * *

"Now then," I said, on the next night, "I am ready to begin. The
tragedy is entitled 'Macbeth.' This is the first scene."

"What is the first scene?"

"A blasted heath."

"Well, I think you might give a civil answer to a civil question. There
was no occasion to use that word."

"I didn't."

"You did. I heard it distinctly."

"Do let me explain. It's Shakespeare uses the word. I was only quoting
it. It merely means----"

"Oh, if it's Shakespeare I suppose it's all right. Nobody seems to mind
what _he_ says. You can go on."

I read for some time. Eliza, in reply to my question, owned that she
had enjoyed it, but she went to bed before her usual time.

* * * * *

When I was preparing to read aloud on the following evening, I was
unable to find our copy of Shakespeare. This was very annoying, as it
had been a wedding-present. Eliza said that she had found her scissors,
and very likely I should find the Shakespeare some other night.

But I never did. I have half thought of buying another copy, or I dare
say Eliza's mother would like to give us it. Eliza thinks not.

THE UNSOLVED PROBLEM

"Eliza," I said one evening, "do you think that you are fonder of me
than I am of you, or that I am fonder of you than you are of me?"

She answered, "What is thirteen from twenty-eight?" without looking up
from the account-book.

"I do think," I said, "that when I speak to you you might have the
civility to pay som