r senses which you have forgot, Jacob.
Now, one I takes to be the very best of the bunch is _smoking_."

"I never heard that was a sense," replied I, laughing.

"Then you haven't half finished your education, Jacob."

"Are reading and writing _senses_, father?" inquired Mary.

"To be sure they be, girl; for without sense you can't read and write;
and _rowing_ be a sense just as well; and there be many other senses;
but, in my opinion, most of the senses be nonsense, and only lead to
mischief."

"Jacob," said Mary, whispering to my ear, "isn't _loving_ a sense?"

"No, that's nonsense," replied I.

"Well, then," replied she, "I agree with my father that nonsense is
better than sense; but still I don't see why I should not learn to read
and write, father."

"I've lived all my life without it, and never felt the want of it--why
can't you?"

"Because I do feel the want of it."

"So you may, but they leads no no good. Look at those fellows at the
Feathers; all were happy enough before Jim Holder, who is a scholar,
came among them, and now since he reads to them they do nothing but
grumble, and growl, and talk about I don't know what--corn laws, and
taxes, and liberty, and all other nonsense. Now, what could you do more
than you do now, if you larnt to read and write?"

"I could amuse myself when I've nothing to do, father, when you and
Jacob are away. I often sit down, after I've done all my work, and
think what I shall do next, and at last I look out of the window and
make faces at people, because I've nothing better to do. Now, father,
you must let him learn me to read and write."

"Well, Mary, if you will, you will; but recollect, don't blame me for
it--it must be all on your own head, and not on my conscience. I've
lived some forty or fifty years in this world, and all my bad luck has
been owing to having too much senses, and all my good luck to getting
rid of them."

"I wish you would tell me how that came to pass," said I; "I should like
to hear it very much, and it will be a lesson to Mary."

"Well, I don't care if I do, Jacob, only I must light my pipe first;
and, Mary, do you go for a pot o' beer."

"Let Jacob go, father. I mean him to run on all my errands now."

"You mustn't order Jacob, Mary."

"No, no--I wouldn't think of ordering him, but I know he will do it--
won't you, Jacob?"

"Yes, with pleasure," replied I.

"Well, with all my heart, provided it be all for love," said Stapleto